


Winter's Dark Angel

by sirensoundwave



Series: In the Garden of Frozen Blooms [1]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Child Abuse, Child Death, Disturbing Fluff, Family of Choice, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Touch-Starved, bashing with a purpose, dark side of childhood, family bonds, not really sure how to classify these relationships, overall sorta depressing, slightly Dark!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:57:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirensoundwave/pseuds/sirensoundwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*title change*<br/>What do the Guardians really know about their newest addition? Not long after Pitch is forced to retreat, they make a startling discovery about the winter sprite that turns their world on it's head. Jack...how could you?</p><p>Tags updated as story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Frost Flower Funeral](https://archiveofourown.org/works/852980) by [princessofthedeadsheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofthedeadsheep/pseuds/princessofthedeadsheep). 
  * Inspired by [Brother Frost](https://archiveofourown.org/works/637738) by [nekokoban](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekokoban/pseuds/nekokoban). 



> Sup peoples! I admit it, I have a problem. I have an entire file on my gdrive label 'plot bunny farm'. This is another one that escaped. I really gotta fix the hole in that damn fence...
> 
>  
> 
> Anyhoo, the credit for this one goes to princessofthedeadsheep and her (gonna assume you're a girl with the name and all) wonderful fic 'Frost Flower Funeral' ( I also apologize for initially fucking up both your name and story title) a very good read though not necessarily needed to understand this story.

 

*wda*

 

Aster, of all people, found out first. Just going about his business in the wee hours of Easter morning in Sweden. Despite the cold, this small town planned an egg hunt before church to be eaten at the festival after the service. He usually didn't hide any so close to the lake but on his way to the next village, he saw a sight that chilled him far more than the biting breeze.

Jack. He stood on the ice of the lake with a young girl, 13 maybe 14. They weren't too far away for him to see her face was stained with tears. Her pretty blue eyes were swollen and red. Straw colored locks done up in a haphazard bunt. What in blazes was Frostbite doing? The lil shelia was in a nightgown!

Then Jack spoke.

And Bunnymund's heart stopped.

"Everything will be all right Lova." He stroke her hair gently. "I'll make it better ."

"Will it hurt?" She sobbed. "I'm afraid of the pain."

"Don't be. It's just like going to sleep. But once you close your eyes, you'll never hurt again. I promised, remember?"

He wasn't-

"I don't want to ruin the little ones' Easter but it's too much! I just can't! I want it to go away!" She dove into his arms bawling uncontrollably. The two sank slowly to the frozen surface on their knees. Wood clattered next to them. "I've been alone so long. Please make it stop..."

"Shhh..." he began to whisper quietly. Not low enough to escape rabbit hearing. "You called me so you wouldn't be alone. To take your pain away. And so I came. Just close your eyes sweetheart." Jack drew the girl closer with both arms and the air faintly shimmered with his power.

Dear MiM no! 

The pooka dashed forward only to be met with a harsh gust of wind like a mallet. Multicolored ovals went everywhere as he was shoved back leaving a skid trough in the snow. With little wind-up eggs dancing around his noggin, it took him a while to regain his bearings. Quickly enough, he gathered his precious cargo and scampered into a thicket of trees to avoid being seen. If the winter sprite could do something like that without so much as touching his staff-- He needed to make sure the others knew. Going head to head with the shepherd of winter in his element alone would not go so well.

Peering around a mighty pine, he saw her still in Jack's arms. One hand firmly clutching the back his hoodie. The other lying limp on the ice. Both void of warmth, replaced by stark blue that came with death by exposure. Large ears drooped in sadness and utter disbelief.

Frost carefully lay her body down. Bunny couldn't see his face though honestly, he feared he might see that trademark mischievous smirk if he did. With a light tap of his staff, the ice gave way. Once Lova plunged into the frozen depths, the hole refroze leaving the spot pristine.

Without a word Jack rose into the sky and swept his staff wide. Snow blanketed the area covering the tracks entirely. His hand glowed a soft blue for a moment then a delicate flower made of ice floated down to rest on the concealed grave. Satisfied, the boy flew off on the wind unaware or perhaps uncaring of his stunned watcher.

Jack Frost, the spirit of winter and fun, had just taken a child's life. Taken it then disposed of her body and any evidence. So he knew what he'd done was beyond wrong. Was the flower some sick calling card? Lake Blix often remained frozen to some extent until early summer. No one would ever see the blonde again. Period.

**

While tragic, one girl would not prevent him from doing his job. As he traveled that day, the Easter Bunny took some time to research.

'Being able to bend the rules of timespace, handy that.' He thought to himself morosely. The more he desperately looked to dismiss his hunch, the worse he felt. More and more proof piled up until it was undeniable. Lova was not his first victim.  Not by a long shot.

From the temperate to the arctic latitudes, deaths from the cold were frequently reported. Especially in winter. Children wandering out onto thin ice. Getting lost in the woods. Simply being unlucky enough not to have a warm bed. It was common.

Finding your son frozen solid in the yard on a balmy night in Narobi, Kenya was not. Nor was seeing a frost covered young girl slumped over the side of an empty tub in Aurangabad, India. Even less so to discover two small hypothermic bodies near a beach resort in Louisiana during peak season. There were scores of cases just like this over the years (and he suspected a great deal more weren't even reported) in every hemisphere. Most were something like 13 and up but a few were just babes. Somewhere near each, an intricate, beautiful glass flower, a lily.  "No explanation found", the articles read. "Investigators baffled."

Except that wasn't glass.

There was an explanation, though still baffling to say the least.

Great Nelly, Jack was a serial killer. Instead of protecting children, he'd been murdering them. Had been for centuries. And none of them suspected! His thoughts immediately went to the children of Burgess. He heard him say Lova called for him.

So that was his game. Get the ankle bitters to trust him. Play with them and act a fool in the snow then when they were sad and lonley they could call him, 'to make it all better'. Jamie...Sophie! No child was safe!

 

How could The Man in the Moon even think to make this MONSTER a Guardian?!

 

The nightmare bastard had gone into hiding few months ago but Aster would rather deal with Pitch. 

 

Running on all fours through a tunnel to the Workshop, these thoughs plagued him. A sudden realization only served to alarm him further  causing him to trip over his own feet. 

If Jack Frost just became a guardian last winter, how could children call for a being they didn't believe in? 

*wda*

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, my inbox sorta exploded.
> 
> Yay! 
> 
> *fangirl squeal*
> 
> *passes out*
> 
> Glad this is so well recieved. You guys give me such feels n_n
> 
>  
> 
> Here ya go, part two. Also, thought of a better title.

 

 

 

*wda*

Honestly, he'd seen the lights but been otherwise occupied at the time. Once he was done, he'd commanded the wind to whisk him to the Pole at top speed to arrive before too long passed. North's lectures about punctuality were getting old. In hindsight he probably should have taken his time.

Maybe he could've avoided this whole mess.

*wda*

Bunny spilled out of his burrowed tunnel, at North's feet no less, looking absolutely frazzled.

"Bunny! Is good to see-"

"No time for that mate. Frostbite is into something darker and more twisted than Pitch ever was. We gotta put a stop to it." He hopped to the beacon, hastily turning on the lights. "Hopefully he gets here after the four of us. Be just our luck that this be the one time he ain't late."

"Turning on lights my job Aster." The former Cusak huffed, hands on hips. "Slow down and explain please! Jack is prankster but all in good fun yes?"

"That's ain't fair dinkum mate. Probably as long as he's been Jack Frost, he's been..." The Pooka shuddered as he stood up. "...killing children."

"This can't be!"

"Oh I wish it weren't North. I been lookin into strange deaths in the last 300 years. Seen it with me own eyes. Turned a girl into a popsicle this mornin, poor thing was depressed wanted him to make it better. She called him, somehow, to come take her life."

"Oh my word!"

Tooth zipped in and dropped on her rear, wings frozen in shock. She had been talking with Sandy as they arrived. Both were working in east Asia when the call went out. The two ran into each other rather frequently in the field seeing as she and her girls only arrived once a kid was asleep. She had to have heard that wrong. The eternal teen was so sweet and all he'd done against Pitch... There's just no way...

Sandy's brow furrowed while pictures flashed at breakneck speed above his head. Realizing his companions couldn't read quite that fast, he settled for a large question mark and exclamation point. Jack could be careless but to intentionally hurt much less kill a child didn't seem real. Guardians protect childhood, not destroy it. To do so balked at the mission the man in the moon gave them!

"You got anything here that might contain him til we know how to handle this mate?"

"In time could build, but not on hand. Manny, what have you done friend? How could you let it continue?" Santa looked skyward. As usual, the Man in the Moon remained silent. "Bah! If that is case, we stop him ourselves."

"What Pitch crawled outta his hole?"

Instant silence.

The subject of conversation swooped in through the open window. Just as happy go lucky as ever, smiling brightly. When no one spoke, Jack looked around nervously. He dropped down to the polished floor, clutching his staff.

"Guys?"

"It's true...Jack...how could you?" Tooth sobbed. Her hands flew to her mouth in horror. "How could you?!"

"Huh? How could I what?" He looked puzzled but the last pooka wasn't going to be fooled. Not anymore.

"How many since you became a Guardian Frostbite?" Bunny glared. "You can deny the girl in Sweden, but that stain on ya hood's pretty telling."

"Stain? Oh." He looked down confused. Only to sigh immediately after seeing it. A deep red patch blossomed across the lower left side of his hoodie and top of his pants. Now that he wasn't hurdling through the air, the smell of copper became pronounced. "Hoped I never had to explain this to you all."

Sandy responded first with a series of gestures clearly asking why he would end a child's life. How he could even consider such an act. His heart should be pounding in his chest, followed by hyperventilating. Unfortunately that night so long rendered both impossible for him. It didn't take away from the fact that Jack wanted no part of this conversation. He knew that whatever he told them made no difference. It still made him a child killer. The very antithesis of what their group did.

"I don't have a number, but since you know already does it really matter? I can't count them but I do remember every boy and girl.You seem to be under the impression that I enjoy stealing their lives away."

"What are we supposed to think ya gumby?! That girl froze to death in your arms after you told her to close her eyes-"

"Did you also see the smile on her face? Lova I didn't know very long. An orphan girl abandoned by her family at three due to her heart condition. St. Bartholomew is a very nice place to live with the best doctors but it isn't meant to be permanent. With her sickness and age, chances of placement were slim to none. Why wouldn't any one come for her? Every friend she ever made got adopted so one day, she simply stopped trying to make new ones. Those she came to love would leave her in the end anyways, so why bother?

She felt worthless, that she was a burden to the sisters at the home. As she grew up, her needs naturally became more costly. So much more could be done for the little ones if she simply disappeared so it's what she asked for. Out on Lake Blix she sang the one lullaby she remembered from her mother and called me. I knew all this by touching her face." He didn't look up but sensed they were stunned. Fingering it, he drew their attention back to the bloody stain. "Trevor was a cutter. When they call for me, sometimes just to talk. At least for a little while. 

He'd seen his father's schizophrenia drive him into an asylum already. Two years ago he had the first hallucinations of his own. It's hard when people think you're crazy, devastating to know they're right. His dad had tried to hide his illness so maybe if he accepted his, things would be okay. Trevor held out hope that one day, the doctors would get it right. Reality just hit too hard this semester. With grades that looked like swiss cheese from the hospital stays and trial and error meds that didn't work and the record he wracked up with his episodes, there was no way in hell any college would touch him. Sitting in the snow he'd already slashed both wrists but cold tends to slow blood flow. Scared that someone would find him in time, he called out to me. I let him lie his head on my lap, counting stars while one of my storms blocked off the hiking trail."

"You just got believers...and this certainly ain't part of ya legend. It's been happening too long." Aster frowned, still glaring.

"I've always had believers Bunny, I doubt I'd have lasted 300+ years without them. It's just, they don't believe in Jack Frost. Like you guys, I have other names that vary from country to country; some just not meaning the same thing or influenced by local culture. You all exist to give childhood meaning, keep it pure. But when hope dies, dreams shatter, memories fade and wonder ceases, I am always there for them. This is the reason I tried so hard to make you guys dislike me all these years..." Blue eyes closed, clutching his staff like a lifeline.

"Manny created a spirit just to kill the very thing we protect. That makes no sense." Tooth shook her head fervently, unwilling to accept that answer. Children were innocent, thinking of death as an answer to their problems- that's something adults did. 

Right?

"Jack...what do young ones call you?" North ventured. The hurt in his comrade's eyes was undeniably true. No matter how grim the facts were, they were still facts. That belly of his could feel it.

"The Patron Saint of Suicide, Winter's Dark Angel." A hollow chuckle followed. "Most often though, they shorten it to St. Jackson or Brother Frost. Haven't the faintest idea how word of me travels but boy does it. And I'm just as busy as any of you. Guess you can't call me a lazy goof off any more huh?"

/This isn't a joke./ Sandy mimed. /Have you tried not doing it? Children request things we cannot honor all the time./

"No shit." There was no bite in those words despite the tone. "You ever tried not spreading your dream sand? I've always known what I was meant to do on some level. But why was it me? What did I do that made the moon choose me? Was I bad somehow? That's what made me angry at the Moon. I should thank Pitch in all honesty. If not for him, I'd still be in the dark."

His staff pulsed and the room was enveloped in white. Then they were standing in a forest at night. Full moon high above.  As majestic as the scenery appeared, their eyes flew to the mop of black hair peering over the edge of a ravine. As soon as they saw him, he shut his eyes, spread his arms...and leaned forward.

"Oh!" The group exclaimed as one. Before his feet left the ground though, a familiar figure snagged his hand.

No words were spoken. The two merely stared into each other's panic stricken eyes.

Suddenly images, thoughts and feelings rushed into the Guardians's minds. 

This boy was Phillip, just turned 15. His father's job as a fur trader kept him away for months on end. New to the Burgess colony, he, his mother and younger brother had very little in the way of food thanks to the harsh winter. Father would be home in a few weeks but their pantry would feed them only a week more at most. But Douglas was so very tiny. The 3 year old didn't eat much. His mother was pregnant too. If he wasn't there they'd have enough to eat until father returned with more. He loved his family too much to let them starve.

Once the flashes subsided, the vision Jack let go. Right after freezing Phillp solid. For the second time, Bunny did not see his face.The scene faded, taking them back to the present.

"Children have such capacity for selflessness. They tend to believe things beyond their control to be their fault and assume responsibility for them. Manny picked me because of why I died. On the ice that day, I knew there wasn't enought time for both of us to get clear before the surface totally gave way. Instead of running home like a coward, I chose to switch places with Emma. Phillip reminded me of myself even though I couldn't really remember why. He was the first one to call for me the same night I-"

The youngest guardian tensed up mid sentence. Brilliant blue bled away from his irises, leaving them a pure white, save pin pricks of black in the center. A blank expression appeared on his face and arctic winds whipped around the room forcing them to cover their heads. When it subsided, he was gone.

And their faith in what they do and how the world should work went with him.

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will totally be a third part. Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out!


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As, promised I wrote a third part. But, I must confess it was originally supposed to be the first and ONLY chapter of this story. The reason it's not is due in part to the some of the same points many of my lovely readers on both sites also noticed about this fandom. Particularly the fact that the Guardians generally accept this darker side of Jack in other variations. 
> 
> This is total bullshit; no disrespect to any writers who have gone with that premise, this is just my opinion. Wouldn't you freak out if someone you loved and trusted was essentially pulling a pediatric Kevorkian on a regular basis? 
> 
> Yes, yes you would. 
> 
> I do not care how caring and understanding a parent or such you are you would loose your shit. Upon later reflection you might come to understand (or not) but the intial reaction will be less than subdued. I guarantee you that.
> 
> This chapter is about Pitch (a character the movie screwed over for the sake of retaining the extended attention of the target audience. He wasn't always a dick.) and his reaction. 

*wda*

Death did not amuse the Nightmare King as much as one would believe. Mainly because the dead have no fear he can feed from. Despite his gloating during their last encounter, the feelings he received from his foes when they were at their lowest equated to pure sugar; sweet and enjoyable but lacking any true sustenance and ultimately toxic in high doses. Spirits were by definition not alive after all. However, that disastrous defeat left him too weak to afford turning down anything he could get. 

/Beggars can't be choosers and all that rubbish./ He growled to himself. Disgruntledly stalking the deary halls of a hospital was not his cup of tea. Ghosts of the past were everywhere. Confused, lost souls pleading with staff and visitors that clearly could not see them for help.

Nurses long dead refusing to abandoned their posts. Still tending patients, living and not, faithfully. Pitch supposed different spirits occupied different levels of this purgatory. They didn't always recognize each other. Case in point, a woman who likely died in childbirth walked with her stillborn infant along the maternity ward. Every time she tried to touch a living person, her hand turned to vapor, utterly confusing her. Panic and desperation rising with each attempt. The permed beehive made it quite obvious she'd been here a while. The fact that she avoided any person not of her skin color also spoke volumes about the times in which she lived and died.

Passing the elevators, she walked right through another pair of souls. A middle-aged nun in full white habit exited pushing a man old enough to be her father. The wheelchair design was from the turn of the twentieth century. The spector of an elevator attendant behind them confirmed that. 

This wing was rather old. The technology was new and somewhat unreliable in those days; getting on one tended to be a gamble. Perhaps the three of them perished in that shaft. Unaware of their demise, still going through the motions of existing.

It really did not concern him.

Pitch's destination lie in the levels of the another wing. The children's ward. The fear here caressed the nightmare king like a long lost lover. Not really understanding their situations, being terrified of their ails, all so wondrous! And the distraught families iced the cake! Sheer bliss...

Even still, this visit compared more to a fact finding expedition than a pleasure trip. The strength he gleaned only a satisfying bonus. He'd come investigating a phenomenon he'd long known about but never got around to looking into due to his previous preparations. In short, how a child's unbridled fear could suddenly become relief. Joy even. Not even the soothing touch of a loved one or an upswing in health could halt nightmares so abruptly. In his weakened state, this nuisance elevated to possible threat.

Materializing in the terminal unit, his first clues came straight from the mouths of babes well enough to sit in the common area. A trio of gravely ill children distracting themselves from very immanent death with a mind numbing videogame.

"He's here." A tiny red head said. She nervously picked at the feeding tube inserted though her nose.

"Who called him?" An older boy answered. Scratching his head, strands if his once thick afro peppered his shoulder.

"Tamika I think. That's her room right?" A garnish series of surgical scars latticed the side of the oldest boy there's face and shaved head.

"Oh...the new medicine didn't work?" Red sighed not caring that her character just got knocked out.

"She never expected it to. None of us did." The first boy frowned.

What were they blathering about?  

As he turned towards Tamika's room, it did not escape his notice that these three could see him but their conversation didn't pertain to him. The youngest scooted closer to scarface but stuck out her tongue.The boy going through chemo just glared but did not stop pressing buttons on his controller.

"Go away." Scarface spat then returned his attention to the Xbox. "Your pick D-man."

Strange. Seeing him usually meant fearing him. Not an iota of the emotion wafted from any of them. Just deep sorrow. So very strange...

Stranger still, the light mist coming from the room. Pitch observed a nurse approach the threshold only to shiver lightly then walk off as if she'd completely forgotten her previous intentions. The mist spread along the entire ward. Every adult seemed to be actively avoiding that room like it was the normal thing to do. A tike doing wheelies in his chair stopped for a moment nearby to shyly whisper something.

"Please take good care of her St. Jackson."

"I will."

Frost? 

This was Florida. In spring. What was he doing here? Certainly the others would take issue with him mucking up the seasons. Especially the rabbit.

The child looked his way. With a cool grace so unbecoming of a six year old, he raised a thin brow in silent dare. A second later, he shrugged before rolling off.

Now he was dying, the know. Passing through the mist, he felt himself becoming disoriented. Were it not for being an immortal, he probably would have done as the humans did. Instead, he approached but found he could go no further than the frame. Like an invisible wall of ice stood in his path. He could see inside just fine though.

On the bed lay a child. The gender hard to discern as a mass of tubes and wires blanketed them. A particularly thick tube shoved down their throat held in place by tape obscured a great deal of the face. Well, Tamika was a girl's name.

But what startled him was the winter bane standing over her. She looked up at him as far as the tangle would allow. A grating gargle spilled from her mouth.

"It's alright Mika. No need to tell me how much it hurts, I heard it in your call. We're going to rest now, okay pumpkin?" He lightly touched her shoulder and she relaxed. A jerky nod answered him. Her eyes wandered up to the beeping monitor. Frost slide a bit to the side so she couldn't see it anymore. "Don't think about that thing kiddo. It doesn't matter now."

Tamika sighed, shifting around presumably to get more comfortable. Jack stood patiently while she squirmed then settled.

"That's it princess." The hand on her shoulder moved to rest just over her heart as her eyes then moved to the picture on the stand. Her holding a puffy white cat. In the photo, she beamed while the animal batted at one of her long dreads. Those locks had probably been shaved or fallen out months ago. "Yeah, that's right. Bubbles will be there waiting for you."

This scene befuddled the hell out of him. As previously stated, Pitch was no stranger to death. Not at all. Nightmare fuel ran the gamut from insanely unrealistic fears to the very real depths of human depravity. Still, his mind refused to process the fact that, based upon the information presented, the goody two shoes Guardian of Fun...was about to straight up kill this girl.

Her eyes finally closed. Her ragged breath hitched momentarily then evened out. Looking for all the world as if she were falling asleep. The urgent shreik of the monitors shot that assumption to hell. Pulse, respiration, temperature all nosediving at a fatal rate. Yet not one staff member moved. Her display at the nurse's station remained unchanged. This freezing fog affected electronics as well. Hmm...

"Pepper dear, are you hurting?"

Pitch turned to watch red pigtails swish rapidly as tears streaked her face. The head nurse knelt beside the littlest child trying to identify her trouble. Squeezing scarface's hand, she tried to explain. Only to have a loud sob come out instead of words. Denying any pain, she simply would not calm down. The girl's distress attracted the attention of staff and visitors alike. 

D-man looked like he was about to crush the plastic in his hands. The game forgotten,he gazed at his lap. The only one he had no name for smiled  slightly and hugged the bawling one.

"She's going to miss Tamika a whole lot Nurse Brenda. She helped Pepper understand everything best. Cuz they had the same thing ya know?" He said.

"Justin, what do you mean had?" Brenda stressed the word had. Like a bad movie cliche, at that exact moment, the sound of a flatline echoed for all to hear, spurring a flurry of movement. Pitch knew their actions would prove futile just as the children did.

As did the elderly nurse who got there first. She stood on the opposite side of the bed staring at the gorgeous crystal flower clasped in her hands; searching the room in awe.

"Delilah what-?!" A doctor barked.

The woman merely lifted the hand too frail to belong to a sixteen year old. Displaying the work of art.

"She's far too cold for her heart to have just now stopped. She literally freezing, rigor's set in. Oh!" She slipped on her butt, landing on a patch of ice. "How did this get in here?!"

Those on duty began whispering in that pointless sort of way. Loud enough for anyone to hear.

"Again?" 

"There was a DNR but still..."

"How does this keep happening?" 

"We keep trying to tell you." D-man sniffled.

"But you don't believe us." The one in the wheelchair huffed.

"Alright then, what happened Scott?" Brenda asked. Her face wore a frustrated expression. 

"Mika gave up." Justin shrugged instead. "She got tired of disappointment. And pain."

"So she called out to St. Jackson to take her soul to heaven. He freezes you, so it's like taking a nap forever." Pepper wiped her face with her sleeve. "He answers your prayers when nobody else can."

"But only if you're really ready to die."

Ignoring the stunned responses to such morbid things being said by children, Pitch strode into the arctic room. The temperature change was alarming.

"And now you know too." 

Jack looked up and Pitch just stared.

White eyes stared back. Not icy blue. Pupils barely visible.

"Never thought the Moon would allow one of his precious Guardians to go around snuffing the little brats out." The Boogeyman chuckled. Oh this was rich. Looks like Jack wasn't as innocent as he appeared. No wonder his attempts to win the boy over failed. He was already quite dark at heart. /Wonder what the others thought of this more homicidal facet of the winter sprite?/

"You got a lotta contempt for the same 'little brats' your whole existence depends on. That'd kinda sad. This is the real reason he made me Pitch."

For the second time, his brain came to halt. Tsar Lunanoff, god like being who swore to never let the cosmos fall into darkness again, created a killer of youth from the spirit a dead child. The sheer audacity of it all. He turned to the waxing moon rising as the sun set with a sneer.

"Yes, but what I do had to be stopped. Hypocritical old bastard." 

"Fear has a place in the world but isn't meant to rule it Kosmotis."

"Cute, he told you my name-"

"That's where you fucked up. Life is full of ups and downs, joy and sorrow. Sometimes though, it's all too much to bear; especially for a child." Jack watched the equipment be removed from the corpse. The sheet then got pulled over Tamika's face while a sister said a prayer. Then kept right on speaking as if uninterrupted. The taunt falling on deaf ears. "When they are ready, they ask me to end it all. Winter is always an end, and a new beginning. So is death."

Collecting his staff from the wall, he didn't even turn back around to continue talking.

"You should look elsewhere. These kids no longer fear anything, least of all dying." Not waiting for the elder to reply, the white haired snow spirit slid through the glass and was gone.

And all the master of fear could think?

/What the hell just happened?!/

*end?*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, this is the end folks. Thank you all so much for reading. As I said, the first two chapters weren't originally part of the story but the idea of traumatizing the Guardians of Childhood was too good to pass up n_n
> 
> ...
> 
> Yes, there is something wrong with me.
> 
> Seriously, read anything else I've written as proof of that.
> 
> At some point, I may come back to this. I have other ideas I may explore:
> 
> How will believers in "Jack Frost" react to "St. Jackson"? At some point, he will run across a child who believes in both incarnations.
> 
> What happened when Jack was called away at the end of part two?
> 
> How did the legend of Winter's Dark Angel begin? Better yet, how did it spread to children over the world?
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. Here is a chapter addressing the fact that there are children who believe in Jack Frost and St. Jackson in the world and one way it might work. Someone also learns something Jack already knew quite well; even though pain, grief and anger hurt like hell manifesting often as less than rational, they represent a powerful form of belief nonetheless.

 

*wda*

The geese on a southern route soared overhead. Sounding off as they flew. Ironically very fitting for this occasion.

"Hamakom y'nachem etchem b'toch sh'ar availai tziyon ee yerushalayim."  Jamie murmurs to the Felders as he passes. All of the Burgess Seven (now Six) do, even ten year old Sophie. She mispronounces a few of the foreign words but her intentions were clear. To offer the appropriate words to her Jewish friend's grieving family. It shocks a lot of the older attendees.

Burgess is not a large city; not microscopic either (with a populace approaching 14,000 including the outlying countryside) but it wasn't really expected for anyone outside those who attended Ahavah Olam Temple to observe their traditions. To see Jamie, Caleb and Claude wait patiently as all the girls and ladies stepped off the cemetery grounds before leaving made Mrs. Felder smile a little. So did each of them pouring water over both hands then going to meet up with their parents. Some of whom were confused if not impressed by the display.

Balancing on two crutches, Jacob Felder turned to stare hatefully at his younger sibling's headstone. Monty had only turned 16 two short weeks ago, just as excited as any teen would be to receive a 'new to him' (but old as he was) car as a present. How could he do this to their family?! Damn it, he took his hands of the wheel...just for a second...but still! The radio can wait, eyes on the road. Ten and two he told him everytime the drove. Just like their uncle taught him.

But he was obviously a terrible teacher. This time his screw up cost him his brother.

/Crawling outta that mangled wreck mostly intact...miracle my ass./ Hearing Montague's last words warped by what had to be a delusion over and over in his head had to be god's punishment for not taking care of his brother. For failing his way out of Penn State in a record single semester.

*wda*

What happened? They were coming back from the a hike, now he was upside down...

Monty never was a fan of techno so he changed the station when that new dance song came on. Then there was a loud honk.Monty swerved to avoid the semi now taking up most of the view and for a second all Jacob could see was sky. Before his face bashed into the dashboard. 

How long had he been out? Why was his back wet?

At this angle, he couldn't see his brother at all. The passenger side had compacted in a way that left him trapped between the seat and console, facing the window now pressed against grass and rock littered with glass. Monty's glasses rested in that mess too.

Along with a pool of blood.

Wet...no...

"Monty! Can you hear me?!" Frantic shouting went unanswered. When there was sound, it wasn't directed at him.

"Jack?..hurts..." Who was Jack?

"I know." The voice could easily have been the wind. Barely audible over the roaring in his own ears. "Not for much longer."

"I thought...but I dont want to die..." Terrified words spoken weakly came next. "Saint of Suicide right?" So, Monty heard it too. 

Wait, WHAT?! What the fuck's this guy been telling him?!

"You don't really have a choice, sorry. 'Sides, Saints often have more than one vocation. " A sad chuckle followed. The voice became clearer. Sort of deep but still young, maybe younger than the freshman dropout. A beat of heavy silence followed before he spoke again. "One of mine is mercy. Just let go Monty. I'll be here to catch you."

"Hold it! Don't listen to this weirdo. Don't do anything he says. Get lost you creep!" For real? The one person to find them after rolling down a jagged hill happens to be a headcase. Fantastic. Could their luck be any worse?

Congrats on jinxing yourself Jake.

"He's my friend Jake. He wont..." the word draws out then slurs as the cabin grows far too cold. Silence. No movement, no breathing. Nothing. A disbelieving heartbeat later, the older brunette lost it.

"Bro? BRO! Wake up, don't go to sleep!" He screamed. "MONTY!"

"He's already gone Jake. Don't worry, he isn't suffering anymore."

"Bastard! What did you do?!"

"Just my job. You can rest dude. Help is on the way."

Suddenly he became once more aware that it was late fall, a strong chill must have blown in through the drivers side window. The last thing he saw being wisps of his own breath before blacking out. Again.

*wda*

Later they would tell him that his body shutting down like that from the cold saved his life. A piece of metal punctured his thigh. Freaking out or even just trying to get to out of the car might have nudged it into his femoral artery millimeters away. The bleeding that did occur slowed when his heart rate did.

EMTs pronounced Monty dead at the scene. Judging from the amount if blood on the ground (and Jacob's back), the soup of crush bones and organs his insides turned into and how much body heat he'd lost, his system must have went into shock the as soon as they hit the bottom. An instant death.

Then what did he hear? That was NOT instant.

The angry gaze was reserved for that, that thing perched on top of the tombstone. Looking like a teen still dresses for Halloween. White skin and white hair dressed in a hoodie, worn pants and no shoes certainly stood out against the background of autumn foliage. Adding to the creepy factor, it held a sheppard's cane as it's white eyes slowly turned an electric blue. And yet the adults walked right by like it was't there. Monty's friends could see it though; they all looked at it while the casket was lowered. Sophie even tried to hide that she waved when it first appeared.

He knew he wasn't crazy.

"I'll catch up mom."

"Take your time honey." Mrs. Felder caught a tear in her handkerchief before it escaped her iron visage. Leaving her make up intact.She refused to breakdown here. Not for all to see. Their mom had always been that way.

Hobbling to the edge of the fresh grave Jacob threw cautioned to the wind. Maybe his sanity too.

"What are you? You get your kicks from attending your victims' funerals?"

"Monty was my friend." It only answered one question.

"You killed him."

"Would you rather he hung on in frightened agony half an hour longer only to expire on the operating table during pointless surgery?"

"You don't know that! Doctors save people against the odds all the time. You didn't even give them the chance to try damn it!"

"Unfortunately I do know. All I did was prevent unnecessary suffering, his death day was already fixed."

"Oh right, you're some angel of mercy." He spat. The thing merely shook it's head. Like it realize something profound that Jacob had not. What right did it have to be exasperated?

"Hm. Your brother's death is not my fault." It leapt forward, clearing the grave in one go to stand inches from his face. The white had long gone, sad sapphire eyes peering into his own. He cringed when it leaned closer, cold breath ghosting over his cheek and ear. "It's not yours either Jacob."

A sudden breeze and the thing was gone.

At the gate, the Bennett kids stood waiting. Sophie tugged at the black frill along her bubblegum skirt. Jamie frowned at him, arms crossed.

"I get that you're upset but seriously?" He raised a brow.

"You yelled at Jack for nothin." Sophie pursed her lips. "It won't bring Monny back."

"...Made me feel better. I don't get why nobody else seems to notice all this weird shit but just so you know, I think you kids are all pretty messed up too. Being friends with some supernatural monster. What kind of friend just kills an innocent kid?" Air quotes attached to the word friend.

"One that loves them. Come on Soph." The siblings went back to their mom's car. Must have gotten out of it again when he confronted this Jack creature. Thinking back to what just occurred, he rembered hearing that blond freak and the rest of them talking before the service. 

Montague Joseph Felder

November 3, 2004 -  November 28, 2020

One of the Burgess Seven

They had talked about wanting something similar on their headstones. At the time, he chalked it up to that unhealthy obsession with death phase all teens seemed to go through these days. Some creepy way of grieving together.

Now creepy didn't remotely cover it.

That meant that something was watching, always watching. Or at least listening. Already knowing who will die and how. Unable to save them. Only grant some form final solice.

Show mercy.

Oh hell no. No way in hell can that be true. If it were, that meant a loser was always supposed to live that day while someone with a bright future died.

/Saints often have more than one vocation./

That the whispers of an angel that came to you when all is lost to set you free weren't rumors at all. Far from it.

Jacob refused to believe such a thing.

Or so he told himself.

*end*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like before, this might not be the end. Writing this gave birth to more bunnies. Here's a scary thought. The kids referenced their own tombstones. Is something more to that than coping with the loss of a treasured friend?
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.
> 
> AN:
> 
> "Hamakom y'nachem etchem b'toch sh'ar availai tziyon ee yerushalayim."  A traditional condolence to family of a Jewish person at their funeral. Literally meaning "May God comfort you among all the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem."
> 
> Some sects believe women and children should leave the cemetery first and all mourners should was their hands once off the burial ground.
> 
> Monny is not a typo. I just imagine Sophie still having a slight speech problem.
> 
> Also, he has no lines and is only in the end credit sequence but Monty does have an older brother in the movie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter takes place right where Pt 2 stopped. To review, the Guardians have all learned that the happy-go-lucky spirit of winter has been taking the lives of children pretty much from the day he was created. They are NOT handling it well. Now, the Man in the Moon has decided it is time to explain Jack (and to some degree, himself) to his big four.
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> It always bothered me that MiM essentially fucked poor Jack over in the movie. I haven't read the books (most beyond movie knowledge I have is from google and fannon. Well all know how that goes...) so this is my justification for the 300+ year silent treatment. FYI being the nerd I am, I bumped 300 years up to closer to 400. Why? The book "The Art of Rise of the Guardians (The Art of Dreamworks)" clearly states that the first few moments of the film take place in the 1600's despite the town of Burgess being established in 1798. This made more sense to me because there certainly were settlements in that state (PA) as early as the 1600's and though a small town, Burgess certainly would have been a whole lot bigger than a few cabins by the turn of the 19th century because there's usually people in an area LONG before it's made an official town or city. 
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> See? Nerdity, nerd, nerd.
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> Onward!

 

 

 

*wda*

 

The globe room remained eerily quiet for a few moments after Jack was gone. 

 

Emphasis on few.

 

"Bloody hell!" Bunny swore. "We gotta go after him!"

 

"Where? We found him first time because of season. Is April, world quite large...and don't think he left for snow making, no?" North pointed out. 

 

"What makes you say that?" The pooka snorted.

 

"His eyes..." Toothania whispered. "They turned white..."

 

"Big deal."

 

"Is very big deal. Jack's whole expression changed, did not even speak. I read about something like this very long time ago. But book long gone, destroyed in fire centuries ago." The swordsman stroked his beard thoughtfully.

 

"But how could Manny do this? A spirit to, to, kill children it's so surreal!" Tooth flit to and fro, her mind racing as fasts as her wing beat. She didn't seem able to hear the others.

 

Or see Sandy's urgent symbols.

 

"Don't tell me you two believe that steaming pile. I told you in the beginning he was trouble but no one listened."

 

"Bunny is no time for I told you so!" North snapped.

 

Once again his associates carried on oblivious to him. Sometimes Sanderson REALLY hated being unable to speak. So, he settled for leveling an irritated look at the reason for his distress.

 

"I apologize Sandy."

The bickering and freak out halted at that voice. One the quartet thought might never be heard again. A familiar gold and silver uniform, trailed by a long white cape adorned his tall frame.

"Manny! Oh, you came to see us, in person!" Toothania instantly perked up. Quickly as hope swelled, it deflated. Her usually smiling superior looked as if someone told him his dog died or something. His silvery blue eyes downcast."This isn't a social visit."

 

"No my dear. It is finally possible to explain what I've done. I am sorry it took this long."

Taking a deep breath, the former Tsar began.

"What Jack told you is true." The moon deity sighed.

 

"No..." The Tooth Fairy once again found herself unable to fly much less stand. She wasn't sure which would be worse actually. Learning that Jack was a disturbed murderer who simply targeted children or that the poor thing was made that way on purpose. Both scenarios horrified the fairy queen.

 

"I must confess this is not how I planned for events to unfold. What Jack remembers of his rebirth is only part of the story."

 

"...he really did...die." Bunny's ears drooped a bit.

 

"Yes. Almost 400 years ago, Jackson Overland sacrificed his life to save his sister's. I rose him from the ice as Jack Frost, the spirit of Winter. The time of year when much life must end in order for renewal to be possible. To lessen his burden, he was also gifted with the purpose of spreading fun and joy amid that sorrow. My miscalculation that such duality would provide balance is an understatement.

 

He became two beings trapped in one body. The carefree harbinger of snow days always looking for a good time. As well as  the solemn angel of death who answers the call of those beyond saving for release. Both representing the duality of his season. "

 

"But why? Why leave him in the dark to figure it out on his own? No disrespect sir but as humans say, that was kinda a dick move." Aster didn't flinch at the looks his fellow guardians shot him.

 

"It wasn't my intention, believe me Aster. As I said, his rebirth wasn't that simple. He didn't even have memories of who or what he was since my magics were spent before I could restore them. The power I used to insured the poor child didn't overload and destroy himself under the strain weakened me to the point that I lost the ability to communicate with him. With all of you. So, I see your 'dick move', was it? And raise you an 'I fucked up' as it were. Badly." Lunanoff hung his head, ashamed. "Because of that, Pitch was able to gain far more power than he should have in that time."

 

 

 

/That's why you stopped appearing in this form./ Sandy folded his arms in thought.

 

"Why recieving orders turned into charades. No offense Sandy." Tooth's shoulders slumped even more. The little golden man gently pat her back. She was close enough to the ground to do so.

 

Four centuries ago, the Man in The Moon suddenly stopped talking. It alarmed the Guardians to no end but around 4 decades later, he began to speak again though only through moonbeams. Vague notions conveyed through the light. 

 

A cruder form of communication far less effective than Sandy's dreamsand. At least they could see the Sandman while he signed. And when all else failed, the dream spirit was not above a pen and paper.

 

Still, they didn't think too much of it. When Lunanoff spoke to them for the first time in 40 years, it had been to insure them that everything was okay. That he merely needed a rest. Now they knew that to be a partial lie

 

 

 

Moreover, now they also knew why he chose the frost sprite to be a Guardian. Jack Frost was more powerful than all of them combined. It all made sense. He'd managed to knock the Boogeyman silly before any children other than Jamie believed. Pretty much a lucky shot but still. It testified to how much they underestimated the younger spirit. Belief sustained them, gave them their strength but too few could see Jack to account for the shear magnitude of energies at his disposal.

It didn't matter. His ability came in a more direct manner. Jack's very lifeblood was MiM's magic. 

Essentially making the boy his son.

Sandy wanted to smack himself for not noticing how very similar the two looked until that moment.

 

"Can you fix? I mean is much for one spirit to bear alone..." Blue eyes under bushy brows looked at their esteemed ruler desperately.

 

"Yes...but not in the way you are hoping Nicholas. The text you mentioned was lost to you because of my doing. Until I could properly explain, I did not want you all to know; cleaver boy sensed this and went out of his way to distance himself from you. The only reason I could even call you all before now is your centers of operation all lie above groundswells of ancient earth magic. Jack's lake does not. You have no idea how much it hurt to see him so lonely and afraid. 

 In the time before Jack Frost, beings did exist to do his job separately but they lacked compassion. Having very little respect or even much care for humanity. Instead they viewed mankind as a nuisance, constantly messing up the natural order. Some out right killed to lessen the population. So sure that their sole purpose was to cleanse the earth each winter in preparation for spring. Jack was my attempt to rectify that."

 

 

 

"Instead you created a bigger mess. Lovely." The Easter Bunny massaged his eyelids with one paw. Migraine ahoy. "I hate to ask, REALLY I do, but how exactly do you plan to go about fixing this sir?"

 

 

 

Once again Lunanoff closed his eyes, trying to think of the best way to breach that. If his mistake upset them this much, the solution would be crippling. Years of watching and regretting past actions made him sad. The idea of what adjustments must be made caused nothing but more greif.

 

"Unlike you four, his domain is not limited to those who believe. The job was never meant to be a solo one. He will need companions, others to share his power and duties with. Arrangements have already been taken care of. Up until just recently, I did not have the strength to follow any course of action. This time, the strain will be much less on all parties involved. Being weak and mute for so long is not an experience I care to repeat."

 

 

 

"What does that mean?" Tooth looked up, violet orbs shimmering with tears. She prayed with all her heart that it wasn't what she was thinking. Knowing it was.

She had her fairies.

Bunny had his eggs of all sizes.

North had his yeti. And debatably the elves.

 

 

The regal white haired man walked closer to the globe, tapping it ever so gently. The surface rippled, snuffing out every light, save a small few now shining a different color.

 

 

 

A bright cluster...

 

 

 

...of seven silver dots in one small town.

*wda*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Killed two birds with one stone. Now we know what happened when Jack left as well as why the other kids were talking about their own epitaphs at Monty's funeral.
> 
> But the more I write, the more ideas I give myself. Such as: what happened to those other winter beings?
> 
> That and torturing the guys is fun n_n
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's a spirit of winter, certainly there is one for every season. Mother Nature's existence is no secret either. Living incarnations of many beliefs populate the world, hidden by a veil few humans can breach. Still, there is much the Guardians don't know about their fellow immortals. 
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> When Mother Nature hears how the Guardians reacted to Jack, she is far from happy. She decides to show them why pissing her off isn't too swift.
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> Once again, I have not read the books. I am aware of vague connections between characters not mentioned (or very well explained...) in the movie but that's it. My interpretation of Seraphina and the seasons is just how I think they would be. Also, I'm familiar with the "rise of the brave tangled dragons" concept as spring, summer, fall and winter. I just don't know enough about 3 of the movies to do it well so I won't bother.
> 
> Also, this is a lighter chapter. Relatively.
> 
> Onward!

 

 

 

To say Mother Nature was angry at how the Guardians if Childhood responded to Jack's true purpose, is like saying the Grand Canyon is a pothole.

 

 

 

Sitting on her throne, she seethed. How dare they! Spring brought forth new life, renewing what seemed lost. Summer was a time of growth, for seeds sown in spring to mature.  Fall, a time to reap the fruit of the harvest, to prepare for the coming trials. Winter is the enevitable end, clearing the way for the cycle to repeat. 

 

All her children had their darksides. Torrential floods, firece storms, scorching droughts and more happened year round. Some on purpose, some by accident. It was simply their way to be serene and volatile all at once. 

 

 

 

Fall hadn't meant to cause Hurricane Katrina. At first. It started as a warning about the state of the gulf coast environment. He had become upset that after peak season, he was always left to deal with the utter disrespect for the ecosystem. Pollution, overfishing, the horrendous condition of the New Orleans levees; the list was long just for that part of the globe alone. She remembered watching his face turn as red as his auburn hair, freckles darken and storm grey eyes flash as he cursed in Creole while trying to explain his anger to her. Her efforts to calm him failed and the world knows the rest. In short, Anis had a temper-tantrum that cost thousands of lives.

 

 

 

He cried for months afterwards. Easily the most emotional of the family, Mother Nature spent a great many days holding him, assuring the season things would be alright. Seraphina did not scolded him, as his own regrets were punishment enough. He only acted as his kind was prone to.

 

 

 

There are parts of the planet where the seasonal changes are so subtle that they don't bother with a "changing of the guard" between siblings. Artic, desert and tropical zones fall into that category. The perpetual hotzone deserts of the Mediterranean and Middle East are ruled by the embodiment of summer.

 

 

 

Shemu, her other son, was famous for ending empires in this region. He was the tallest of them, considered a giant in the fae world. She never understood why he chose to hide his handsome face behind a cloth like a desert bandit. Only letting fierce gold irises show. Depictions of several dark skinned deities across the cultures are actually of him. Still, she accepted this little quirk. 

 

 

 

Not fond of show offs, tyrants or imbeciles, Summer had no problem unleashing his wrath in the firm of blistering heat, drought, and dust storms then dumping far more rain than the baked lands could handle in the span of a few days.

 

 

 

The first time he did it, Mother Nature was angry. How could her son behave like a mindless elemental wraith? On purpose?! When he pointed out to her that the results of his acts actually gave the mortals living there a better quality of life in the long run, she sighed and kissed his forehead. While it was in her power to break this pattern, she figured why fix what isn't broken?

 

 

 

Mariposa, her only daughter was the most docile of them all. A playful thing, she often let herself be seen as a rare bird from the South Americas at the height of her season. Ironically enough, the marvellous spatuletail hummingbird is colloquially knowns "el colibrí perseguido por una mariposa"...the hummingbird that is chased by a butterfly. The iridescent blue squares at the ends of the tail feathers are an approximation of the unique way she wore her hair. Standing the smallest at 4 foot nothing with sparkly blue braids, deep brown eyes and lightly tanned skin, she flew about the globe bringing blossoms and new life.

 

 

 

She also left catastrophic winds in her wake. Just because she had more influence over the winds than her brothers didn't translate to full control. She often underestimated how small breezes she created sometimes multiplied as they raced across the globe. The most famous instances both happened in Japan when her kamikaze or divine winds stopped invasions from the Asian mainland not once but twice. The first time was an accident. The second time, when asked, she smiled sweetly.

 

 

 

"Maaybee..."

 

 

 

She loved her children dearly but what many didn't realize? Jack was not her child.

 

 

 

She cared about him as she would one of her own, make no mistake. She had been the one to whisper to him some secrets of his powers. Even sending the winter winds, the one aspect of the season she had full control of to comfort him while he was alone so long. Her once faithful attendant wouldn't return to her no matter how she called to it. Not that she tried very hard after seeing the two get along. To her dismay, she couldn't do much more than that. Strong magics kept her at a distance. All because she simply did not give birth to him. However, that did not mean she had no part in his creation.

 

 

 

Oh, did it haunt her.

 

 

 

Since she recieved her title as nature's ruler, The snowy part of the year seemed to elude her control. Full of wild elementals far older than herself, she was mocked by them at every turn. Why should they bow to her? Only the winds would listen to her, though Seraphina suspected it to be out of pity and disgust at her brethren.

 

 

 

Finally, she pleaded to the moon for help. Insisting she had no desire to rule the season but it's lawlessness must end. Such widespread death and desolation from one time of year was 10x worse than her darlings combined every cycle. Anis complained how the winter beings bullied him, often forcing him to release control of a region a little early. Being non-confrontational, Mariposa hated to fight them off when they over stayed their welcome.

 

 

 

The dark haired goddess regreted her request. Wishing she had tried some other way...

 

 

 

Nevertheless, she was a mama bear like no other.

 

 

 

Her punishments took the form of the things her dear Jack had reminded them of. How out of touch they'd become concerning children and the world they now lived in.

 

 

 

Toothania's fairies found each time they left the palace, strong winds blew them off course. Only when the queen herself ventured out, did they stop. Her majesty needed to get off her ass and do her job. Yes, her subjects were tiny parts of herself but centuries of simply minding the switchboard coupled with the fact that there is a certain point at which the dividing of her soul actually numbed her to the pieces made the tooth fairy lazy. This made her realize how closed off she'd become. What she'd been missing. She was dead tired in a week. No rest for the wicked dear. 

 

 

 

 Bunnymund's tunnels often led him in frustrating circles. Forcing him to watch the children actually find his eggs. Always with the rush, rush, rush the pooka never seemed to look back at his work. Or even enjoy it's effects on the children. It aggravated him to no end not being able to move on when he wanted. But seeing his work appreciated made him smile. So did watching adults puzzle over superhero, cartoon and other pop culture themed eggs they certainly didn't hide. These began cropping up after his forced stopovers. But now he had to go even faster to get the job done on time...

 

 

 

Sandy's cloud no longer let him remain central while his sand spead. Flocks of birds and swarms of insects blocked the flow of the grains when he did. Instead, the little man found he had to visit each house. An exhausing task to say te least. Only after watching a child, learning their hopes and fears could he then ensure their dreams were tailored to them. To be fair, he had been...well dead, when Jack helped the others but that only meant he had to work harder to learn his lesson as far as she was concerned.  

 

 

 

That left North. He seemed to understand a bit better than his companions but nature plays no favorites. Period. He got to deal with his usual methods for discovering what children wanted suddenly ignoring him. From their beloved pets to other animals living in and around their homes, creatures stopped speaking to him. His only option? Wade through that pile of letters deeper than Loch Ness. Well, he had all year after all. Might improve his grammar too.

"Having fun?"

The day after one Easter, Seraphina appeared to them giggling. Her kids joining her. The Guardians had convened to discuss these bizarre developments. As well as how to deal with the whole Jack situation.

 

"Lady Serephina...this is your doing?" North could be heard from about where his desk was. At the time, elves were swimming in the over flow of messily written notes.

"Of course bushy brows." Mariposa sang. "How'd you like that detour in Australia cottontail?"

"You! You popped me outta the side of Ayer's Rock ya loony!" Aster raged.

"Don't yell at my sister you over grown rodent!" Shemu barked, scaring the shit out of the elves who ran away screaming. Even the tough pooka cringed. Flashing gold eyes reminded him of Pitch.

"But why? Our duties are suffering." Tooth pleaded. Sandy nodded vigorously, a question mark hovering over him.

"You're only getting what you deserve. You hurt our petit frère with your stupidity." Anis shrugged. 

"Yes, once you fix your mess, we'll consider letting up. Until then, hang in there. Come along dears." In storm of leaves and musical laughter, the family vanished.

"Bloody hell..." Bunny face palmed.

"This will get worse before better." North sighed. "Feel it. In my belly."

*wda*




**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mother Nature is a real witch. She's rather justified, don't you think?
> 
> Once again, my inner geek shined through:
> 
> Anis is french for anise, an herb that comes onto season during the fall. His being emotional relates to the changes the human body goes through with seasonal effective disorder. It peaks in winter, but starts to screw with people when the amount of sunlight starts to decrease. In the fall months.
> 
> Shemu is ancient Egyptian for harvest season (they really only identified 3 in a year, not 4) which corresponds to what we call summer. The examples of his anger are historical issues ancient desert empires fought. Often losing to.
> 
> Mariposa means butterfly. The bird she masquerades as is very real, very tiny and very pretty. Her name and relationship with the wind are a play on "the butterfly effect". The hypothetical relation between a butterfly's wing beats in one area to a massive storm stirred up in another. Yes, those invasions attempts are where the word kamikaze comes from.
> 
> Ayers Rock is that the huge stone in the outback.
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my dears. This chapter happens not long after Monty dies. I offer the following warnings before you proceed. First, this turns back to the general dark tone of the story. Second, I am fond of giving a background to characters that seem to just exist in cannon when it helps my plot. If a character and/or backstory wasn't in the movie, it counts as not existing. Third, here be references to an established occult religion. If that bothers you (sorta doubt you would have read this far if it did...) then buh-bye, nice meeting you. And yes, I am totally aware of the possible racial interpretations that some may have of this chapter. For those that don't know, I am an African American female; apparently an atypical one. The conflict central to this chapter is very loosly based on a similar issue in my family that happened waaay before I was born.

*wda*

 

 

 

You know the funny thing about running from your past? Having your focus solely on looking forward and getting away makes it ridiculously easy for said past to sprint by and bash you in the back of the head with a fucking brick. This sad truth confronted  Lisette DuMonte late one winter evening in the form of her mother showing up unanounced on her doorstep.

 

 

 

"Mama? What-?" She sputtered. Even with the enormous fur coat, the vestiges of her profession were glaringly obvious. The headscarf in place instead of a hat, the bangles jingling on her arms and legs, the lack of gloves because none fit over those gaudy rings...and that cane carved like a damned snake.

 

 

 

"Granmama Addy!" Two voices chimed, nearly mowing down their mom and barreling into the older woman. She squat down to hug them tenderly, all the while glaring at her youngest daughter.

 

 

 

No one in Burgess knew her as Lisette. Or a DuMonte. Not even her devoted husband Chris. No, 20 years ago Lisa Dune arrived in Burgess PA with her nursing license newly minted. Within the 3 years, she met a hansome young resident, Dr. Whitmore, in his 2nd post graduate year and gotten to know him well enough to accept his proposal. After she nearly broke a tooth on the lovely but stupidly hidden ring in her tiramisu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then came Claude and Caleb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And that past tried to bean her. Five years of  silence and distance from her roots went up like gasoline soaked kindling. Which lead to fifteen more filled with failed family reunions, contant bickering across all forms of social-media and that one death threat.To be fair, that particular piece of insanity was actually localized to a distant branch of the mangrove tree though. Still has no idea exactly, but somehow her family found out about this new life and family. Nothing is more important to the DuMonte clan than family. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Mama, I don't want to talk about this. You know it's why I left."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Lisette-"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It's Lisa."  Such a sharp tone for two little words.

 

 

 

"To the people outside your kin, sure. Till the day you die, we will always know you as Lisette Bijou DuMonte. Now hush child, we ain't talking but you will listen. Hear me?" 

 

Flint eyes locked with pale brown. She could have argued, but why bother? All it would do is upset the boys and this had been a rare night when she and Chris were both off duty. When Adelaide dug her heels in, not hell nor high water would budge her. With bitter resignation, Lisa sighed. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Fine..." She closed the door behind her. Perhaps more forcefully than she intended.

 

 

 

The two of them sat alone in the guest room. Silence passing between then just as it had for so long before. This day, this moment they'd both dreaded. What would come to light after being buried under such anger and guilt left smoldering for a decade or two?

 

 

 

"I let you leave, against the wishes of my elders. This was your life, I had no right to force you to follow in my footsteps as a priestess. But now I regret it." Greying braids swayed as she shook her head sadly. Lisa didn't get the chance to voice her disagreement. "We ain't talking remember? I let you leave all that made you you down in the bayou because I believed that it was right. Wished you the best of luck and asked for the lwa of our line to watch over you, protect you in this new life.

 

 

 

Now, you know I didn't let my rear fall asleep on a plane for six hours to rehash the same old mess when screaming on the phone or sending hurtful messages back and forth handles that all well enough. I talk to the boys all the time child, you know that too. Do you know they are in danger?" Once again ignoring how upset her daughter was getting, she pulled her cellphone from her bag. Allowing her fingers to scroll the screen lazily, she found what she was looking for then resumed speaking. "Just cuz you leave the spirits Lisette, they don't leave you, I didn't raise you foolish enough to think that. They have a friend, talk about him all the time since they were ten but you ain't met him once. None of the parent here have. He's not human."

 

 

 

"Mama, Jack is an older boy they play with. His family seems to only be around in the winter but I've seen him plenty of times. " She scoffed. "Never asked to stay over or come in so I guess the twins didn't see a point in introductions."

 

 

 

"Now since when does 'seen' and 'met' mean the same thing college girl? Did I ask you that? You can see it because you have the gift all DuMonte women do." Adelaide pulled her thin lips into a frown. "That boy has been inside your house many times. They've invited something they don't understand into their home and it aims to take them from you. Didn't you ever think this Jack was strange?"

 

 

 

If she were honest with herself, she'd have said yes. Silvery white hair and skin so pale it looked like glass. Wore nothing but a hoodie old pants and no shoes in the dead of winter. Yes, strange. But of course, she hadn't the will to be that truthful in so long. The desire to distance herself kept the rational part of her mind bound.

 

 

 

"A strange child isn't any reason for you to fly here. Quirks aside, he's never done anything out there enough for me to tell him not to come around."

 

 

 

"Really now?" She then read the scariest private message she'd ever received aloud. "You talk to spirits all the time Granmama so it's okay to ask you. We want to tell mom and dad about Jack but we don't know how. He gave us these cool tattoos cuz the moon said the seven of us are special. They connect us to him and each other. 

 

Monty died last week. We all felt it, like something inside us broke. 

 

 

 

When Jack first told us and we were given the choice of knowing the how or when Monty asked the winter spirit to mess with his head and take those memories away. He already worried enough. Being certain his 18th birthday wasn't gonna happen was just too much. Mrs. Felder hasn't come out of the house since the funeral and Jacob's losin it.

 

 

 

Will you help us explain? We don't want them to be sad when we die. Caleb texted that to me two weeks ago."

 

 

 

"WHAT?!" Despite the outburst from from her daughter, it was the elder who looked ready to blow her top. Deep breathes helped her school her features into a strained faux calm.

 

 

 

"If at the very least, you didn't deny what Bondye gave you, this could have been prevented. A few simple wards or charms is all it takes. Now, Caleb and Claude have been claimed by a wicked lwa that collects children. Steals their souls and leaves their empty shells for parents find. Lisette that spirit has already marked them! Branded them long ago..."

 

 

 

She denied it even as her mother walked her up the stairs. She refused to believe. Right up until the door to their room creaked open and reality succeeded with that brick.

 

 

 

A fucking cheap shot as far as she was concerned.

 

 

 

There it was, plain as day. A deep blue snowflake rested on Caleb's bare shoulder. His wife beater made it visible as he rested. Years she wished to forget are what made her recognize it for what it was. Not a tattoo, fake or otherwise. The way it gleamed in the full moon's light was proof enough that this was no man made mark. 

 

It oozed with power from an entity beyond the mortal realm. The kind she hoped to dull her senses to.The kind she had tried with all her might to get away from. 

 

 

 

The very thing she had been training to be a intermediary for before college. Before she decided she wanted to be normal.

 

 

 

She turned her back on her destiny as a voodoo priestess and this was her punishment. Her children's lives in retribution for her cowardice and arrogance.

 

 

 

"Mama can't we do anything?! Stop this!"

 

 

 

"I tried child. No lwa loyal to our family will touch this. This spirit is far stronger than even Madame LaVeau had been in life and beyond. What's worse, for it's hold to be this absolute, they had to let it infect them. Whatever it promised them was enough temptation to surrender their souls."

 

 

 

At 16,  both boys still  prefered to sleep in the same bed rather than the separate ones they got once they out grew the bunks four years ago. Even though twelve seems to be the age their bodies stopped growing. Not just them; the Bennett kids were almost the same size now even though Jaime was in high school, his sister in elementary. Monty was buried in a child's casket. This force was stunting their growth...but why?

 

The lwa, Jack, sat on the bed nearest the windowsill. Claude's head was in his lap with Caleb curled up next to him on the otherside; both dead to the world. The marks humming with power in response to their creator's presence.

 

 

 

"I came here because I sensed Caleb was worried, Claude isn't sleeping either. He heard you say I wanted to steal their souls. Do you really believe that?"

 

 

 

"We know what you are. I saw you at the Felder boy's funeral. You killed him but you will not have my Claude and Caleb. Release them, now!" Lisa held out the necklace she always wore. The ruby stone pulsed for a moment then to her horror  it began to crack.

 

 

 

"I can't do that Lisette. Even if I wanted to my magic has...already infected them as you put it Ms. Adelaide. Please don't activate that spell ma'am, you won't like what happens." Jack turned to face Mrs. DuMonte who had pulled her daughter back as soon as thr talisman failed.

 

 

 

"Why will no others of your kind stand up to you devil? The spirit world knows of you and your fixation on the youngest of us. Why do they fear you?"  Ignoring the warning, the priestess touched the line of cornmeal on the floor with her foot. This caused an intricate pattern encompassing the entire room to flare bright yellow. Her confident smirk faultered as she saw Jack grimace, his left eye twitching but nothing more.

 

 

 

Claude wailed in his sleep, unconsciously clawing at Jack's thigh. His twin wasn't doing much better; sobbing as he rolled on to his back arching off the matress.

 

 

 

"Stop it. You're hurting them not me!" He barked. "Why do adults all assume I'm evil?" Before the pair could respond, a gust of wind broke the lines of glowing powder to negate the spell. The pained moans gradually quieted to restless whimpers. They were fighting sleep...

 

 

 

Lisa realized thier opponent wasn't allowing them to wake. How dare it control them like puppets!

 

 

 

"You have to understand, I never wanted this. No other spirits will answer your prayers because they know the Moon has set this in motion. I take no joy in killing but it's pretty much why I was created. Very soon, they will be like me." Pale hands made soothing motions against each teen's back.

 

 

 

"Why? Why must you have them? Why are are you stealing the children? Why-?" Words failed Mrs. Coleman as she brokedown sobbing against her mother. Please wake her from this nightmare!

 

 

 

"I'm not stealing anyone. I love your boys, the same as Jaime, Sophie, Monty, Pippa and Cupcake. I've been alone for nearly four centuries because the Moon made a mistake." His crystal blue eyes hardened, anger sparking there. "To fix it, he gave them to me. All seven of them. I'm not stealing what is promised to be mine" 

 

 

 

"If that's true...how can you hurt them like this? Never letting them grow then killing them before they truly live?" Adelaide demanded. He was so possessive in his speech and mannerisms. So child like.

 

 

 

Then it hit Lisa and she had no idea what to feel now. Anger and pity meshed together as she held her mother for dear life.

 

 

 

A lonely child.

 

 

 

A lonely, immortal child. 

 

 

 

He wanted playmates that could never leave him.

 

 

 

"Whatever magic you do will only harm them, remember that. Treasure what time you have left, then let them go; they don't fit into you world anymore. They belong to me"

 

 

 

Gently, Jack moved Claude to lay close to his brother. What the ghost child did next made Lisa's skin crawl. He bent down low...to kiss those wretched marks on their shoulders. A soft glow responded to the touch. The twins both grinned and snuggled closer together, still without waking.

 

 

 

Then Jack was gone.

 

 

 

His satisfied smirk haunting them both.

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....And I'm slowly turning Jack into a creeper. Or am I? Any one notice Lisette was only Lisa when no one was speaking? This took place from her perspective, and in her mind, she's not Lisette anymore. She's refusing to accept something she can't change. Adelaide fully believes in her abilities, has faith in herself as a voodoo priestess so her trap worked (to a point). If Lis(a)ette just acknowledged her heritage, the talisman might not have cracked like it did.
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> Most of the 'mainstream' knowledge about voodoo or really any 'occult' faith is utter BS. We live in a world where my 79 year old great uncle regularly Skypes with his girlfriend when she visits family in Italy and participates in online poker tournaments... FROM HIS GALAXY MEGA CELLPHONE. There's wi-fi in nearly every public building, data connective devices are dirt cheap (it ain't gotta say Apple or Samsung to be worth anything peeps) and when all else fails, library computers are free to use if you don't fancy old fashioned books. Limited acess to information is no longer a good excuse for being ignorant. Don't understand something? 
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> Google it. Just, ya know, be careful what you read ;)
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> Sorry, some of the messages I get form my more magically involved stories kinda piss me off yo.
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...
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> The Guardians are being run ragged by Mother Nature and Jack's pissed off siblings with their unique punishments/lessons: 
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> Sandy can't cover whole cities from his cloud; he has to visit each child personally every night. North is drowning in barely legible letters written in 500+ languages from 189+ countries. Not one mini fairy can leave the palace without being blown across the Himalayas; Tooth hasn't sat still in a year. Bunny is having serious issues getting to where he needs/wants to go; and occasionally having fun with gravity (Ayers Rock/Uluru is about 1100 ft high and far from smooth on it's slopes n_n). The earth goddess hinted that she might back off if they patch things up with the winter spirit.
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> Meaning they will have to confront him and not only accept his true nature but Manny's idea of 'fixing' his mistake.
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> So, how do you guys think this will go over?
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> If you said 'like a lead balloon', congrats you're in the ballpark.
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> Kinda short but serves it's purpose.

 

*wda*

 

E. Aster Bunnymund found himself seriously considering the possibility that he was cursed. Last of his race, stuck forever battling the creature that made that a matter of fact, being the first to see Jack kill...

 

Then there's the one out of three chance the exit to one of his tunnels will happen to appear on the side of a mountain. 

 

Or waterfall. 

 

Or volcano. 

 

Or mother fucking glacier. 

 

Immortals fixed to a particular season were ruled by said season no matter what time of year or where they went. Being that he was a Spring spirit, the pooka warrior was subject to Mariposa's whims unless Mother Nature took pity on him. Seeing as the blunette made him her singular target while her brothers and mother drove the others up the wall, that wasn't bloody likely anytime soon. 

 

It was decided that a powwow was in order the day after Lady Seraphina's friendly visit. Now that they had ALL the facts and about twelve months to 'think it over', they owed it to the youngest Guardian to apologize.

 

 Since he wouldn't respond to the lights, their only leads were the Burgess children. Jamie and the older kids wouldn't acknowledge any of the big four but Sophie still liked Bunny. She still found her way into the Warren on a regular basis though he had no idea how. Maybe she could tell him where Frostbite was. At almost 5, her vocabulary had greatly improved so it was worth a shot.

 

After ending up in the Andes then falling off the White Cliffs of Dover before tumbling across the frozen surface of lake Vostok, (the lil twerp was feeling particularly malicious; three separate hemispheres in the span of two hours. Didn't she have anything better to do?!) he emerged in her bedroom around 1am.

 

 

 

To find the tiny blonde sitting in the winter spirit's lap.

 

 

 

And his tongue down her throat.

 

 

 

See? Cursed.

 

"What the fuck?! Get offa her ya bleedin pedophile!" All thoughts of reconcile boiled away by shear rage. He bound forward intent on snatching her away from danger. Before Bunny could blink, he was frozen to her closet, only his head free.

 

With no choice but to watch, he could see a deep blue light flare under her night shirt on the right side. When Jack pulled back, wisps of white vapor were flowing from her mouth into his. Sophie's closed eyes opened for just a moment. Vacant green orbs flashed ethereal blue before she collapsed like a marionette with cut strings in his arms.

 

"Was wondering when you guys would show up. So, how's Mari treating you?"

 

"Shut up ya drongo! So you're not only killing the anklebiters, you get your kicks molesting then too. To think I started to feel sorry for ya. Sicko."

 

Jack frowned, absently stroking her hair. Looking down, he could see why the pooka thought was upset. His favorite believer's legs were loosely wrapped around Jack's waist. Moments ago, he looked to be making out with the small child. To an onlooker, it certainly seemed perverse.

 

"All I did was claim her, Kangaroo. She's all mine now." Gently, he maneuvered her onto the easter themed quilt.

 

"Yeah that sounds all kinds of creepy mate." Bunny gave a dry laugh.

 

"You're one to talk, randomly popping up in a little girl's room after midnight. What do you want?"

 

"Before I saw that, I was trying to find you."

 

"Isn't your hopping to conclusions what started this mess?" Blue eyes rolled while chuckling at his own pun. "When I'm finished here, I'll meet you at the pole. Don't need an audience."

 

"What else are you gonna do to her?!" Bunny began to panic. Pale fingers were undoing the buttons of her top, slowly sliding the fabric away. Sophie shivered at the cold touch on her bare skin. The way the younger spirit gazed at the unconscious child made his stomach churn.

 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" 

 

The last thing Aster saw before the wind literally flung him onto North's doorstep (WTF, by the way)? 

 

 

 

A devious smile.

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just made Jack even creepier this chapter. Part 9 will pick up where this one left off. And answer Bunny's question. In case anyone is wondering, the rating on this story won't go up.
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> But I'm sure you know that may or may not mean what you think is gonna happen will or won't happen. Stay tuned to find out n_n.
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, two updates in one day.
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*wda*

 

/Not this again./ Sandy huffed as he watched the others talk over each other. The sad part being this had nothing to do with Mother Nature or Jack for that matter. They rarely met without some sort of squabbling taking place. The current situation only exacerbated the norm.  

 

It started about an hour ago. When their pooka friend literally plowed into the front door. Tooth was trying to get Aster to slow down and breathe before he kept talking. North wanted him to hurry up and clearly present his findings. Bunny looked stark raving mad and close to ripping off his own ears. All three just made a cacophony of noise no one understood.

 

The Sandman knew trying to get their attention was pointless. The former star lazily drifted about the globe room, wondering when they'd all catch a clue. Pointedly ignoring the hysterical ramblings from the Easter Bunny. His mind focused on his encounter with Cupcake earlier that year, when they first noticed the Burgess 7 giving them the cold shoulder so to speak. Specifically how she let him know he wasn't welcome anywhere near her dreams--

 

"What's wrong Kangaroo? Wanted to savor that flower's sweet scent? Jealous I plucked it first?" A cool voice cooed from beside the globe. Jack Frost sat in that perfectly balanced way atop his staff leering at Aster. A mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

 

 

/Hoo boy./

 

 

 

"I'M GONNA RIP YA APART! SHE'S FIVE YA HORNY BASTARD!" Faster than they could move to grab him, Bunny lept at Jack. The trickster regarded him with a bored expression. In one fluid motion, he kicked off this perch.

 

And bashed his attacker in the face with it almost as an after thought. A tangle of grey furred limbs with tribal markings collapsed in a painful heap.

 

"Serves you right dumbass." The eternal teen sneered. "Always thinking the worst of me. Didn't give a fuck about me for centuries then only because you were getting your asses handed too you did you decide to reach out. Newsflash, I never wanted to be part of your group because I knew what I do doesn't fit into your neat little view of the world. Then I got to know you, saw how your pasts made you who you are. I started to think, maybe you'd understand. Maybe I'd finally be able to share my life with others like me."  

 

Frost began to creep across the polished floor and carpeting under him where he levitated. Spreading out from his hands to coat his staff. Tooth immediately noticed he was grinding his teeth, trying to reign in his fury. Then she realized here breath puffed white before her about the same time North pulled her close, into his coat.

 

"What a joke! You think yourselves too high and mighty to bother entertaining the gossip. Yet many spirits have whispered what I really am, afraid I might over hear. Something wicked in the guise of a  harmless prankster. An evil monster that lures the lost and broken to their graves! I keep doing it so I must enjoy it. Hearing their hearts still is music to my ears. Feeling the breath leave their bodies gives me pleasure. Watching the light fade from their eyes excites me." He spat hatefully, his blue irises blazing with a haunting light. 

 

The temperature drop now alarmed even the Yeti. Elves were turning blue and sliding across the ice as they clamored for warmth. Bunny sat up just in time to keep his face from being frozen to the floor by his own blood. Being made of sand protected Sanderson though he could feel the air change.

 

"I didn't rape and/or molest Sophie nor have I done so to anyone. Her shirt had gum on it and needed to be changed so it didn't get in her hair. I only acted like that to freak you out Kangaroo." That earned some gasps. He PRETENDED to be a PERVERT just to rile someone up? Who does that?! 

 

Gradually, the cold aura faded, returning the workshop to normal. Well the temperature at least. The atmosphere remained tense and foreboding. Jack was calming down but Sandy couldn't shake his sense of dread.

 

"I already knew you tried talking to the others. Each one called out to me through the link but how they responded was entirely thier choice. What you saw is a binding ritual. Nothing remotely sexual about it. She surrendered part of her soul to me and I drew it into my body. My mark appeared on her shoulder letting others know she's connected to me. Touch her and hell will freeze over. I waited a while longer for her than the others. Until she could understand enough to actually go through with it."

 

"She's a toddler who barely speaks in full sentences. How could she consent to anything of the sort?!" Bunny nursed his probably broken nose. "You took advantage of her just the same."

 

"Jack that does sound a little intense for someone so young..." Tooth trailed off after meeting his gaze.

 

"You bound them? With spell? Is more than little intense Tooth. Is enslavement of children." North looked utterly horrified.

 

Sandy on the other hand felt differently. He understood now. Jack was lonely, even among them. The spell in question was not for making slaves, but equals like MiM told them were needed. They had just assumed that meant MiM himself would do so. But...

 

 

 

Jack was dead.

 

 

 

The only one of them to have died before his initiation into the magical world. Death had been his baptism, what gave him his immortality. His companions could be no different. To ease their transition, the spirit of winter absorbed part of their souls so he could share his powers with them. Explained the miniature ice unicorns that bombarded him at the girl's window.

 

While that would have been nice to know before, he looked Jack square in the eye...and gave a knowing nod.

 

Unfortunately all Jack did was shake his head tiredly.

 

"Well, Cupcake feels kinda bad about going off on you Sandy, that's the good news. Bad news is this is an all or nothing deal, one out of four won't cut it. Father screwed up bad but he's making an effort to set things right at least. Mother was right about you guys though. Too bad, I wish she wasn't. Oh well. 

 

My advice? Get a helmet. Get a computer. Get some Red Bull- it gives you wings. Enjoy another year of hell Guardians. Later."

 

Without further ado, he gracefully soared out of the neared grande window. The four of them stared after him silently for a minute. Until a soft 'pfft' could be heard. 

 

 

 

The sound of sand hitting sand. 

 

 

 

The sound of Sanderson Mansnoozie facepalming.

 

 

 

/I wish my cohorts weren't so dumb./

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See what I did? You guys thought he was turning into a sick jerk. Now who wants to give Jack a hug? Poor Sandy too.
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> Now I can explain why Adelaide's spell backfired. It sought to neutralize the target spirit's powers. She didn't know Jack was so powerful. Or that the 'infection' had actually become an inseparable part of her grandsons. Energy takes the path of least resistance, magical or not. It struck the weaker of the powers it encountered. Which happened to be Claude and Caleb.
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> Oh! Sandy's last thought is a direct quote from one of my favorite movies and so appropriate I just couldn't resist! Anybody know what it is?
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out!


	10. Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, last chapter was a little dark so this one won't be quite so bad. Still, it will be er...interesting. It's about the Bennetts mostly and the interesting things that start to happen as a result of thier slow transformation. A bit of sad too.
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> Parts 4 and 7 both happen 8 years after the story starts. The older kids are 16-17, Sophie is 10 (this I did fix, I originally made her 8) but by now, it's very obvious the seven of them are not growing normally. For reasons only hinted at so far, time has stopped for all of them at 12. As for driving--the average height for a 12 year old boy or girl is around 60 in (5ft), my mom is 5'2" and has no problems seeing over the steering wheel. Being that small at 16 would not stop him from driving. Sophie is almost as tall as her much older brother at this point. Since she isn't 12 yet, she still grows relatively normally
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*wda*

 

Being weird never bothered Jaime Bennett one bit. Not even when his bond with Jack got all kinds if strange.

 

 

 

It did scare the hell out of one Anita Bennett, however. 

 

 

 

Firstly, Jaime was suddenly a lot smaller than most of his peers. She noticed when he went back to school in 3rd grade. He also seemed to get colder to the touch every year. Color seemed to be draining from his skin, his hair slowly turning white. Even his deep brown eyes were changing. Becoming lighter. Bluer. 

 

In 9th the school nurse became alarmed when he came in for a bandage and touched his frigid skin. Taking his temperature, it was 80 degrees. That resulted in the EMTs carting him off to treatment for hypothermia on the spot. Despite his insistence that he was totally fine. A day and a half in a hospital room only yeilded a mooded teen and a whole team of confused doctors. It had been suggested he be more rigorously tested for a host of developmental anomalies that might account for his short stature, low temp and other physical changes. Well that and the smell.

 

 

 

Yes, smell. It wasn't offensive in the least, rather a sickly sweet scent that clung to her son. It varied in strength from time to time but was ever present. A clear case for diabetes out of control.

 

 

 

Except not.

 

 

 

In fact, the doctors remarked the Bennett boy was far healthier than most kids his age. All his labs were normal including his hormone levels. There was just no explanation for his stunted growth other than he probably drew the genetic short straw. In a literal sense. The waiting room at the office of one of the referred specialists did solve the 'my son smells like sugar' thing though.

 

 

 

Sorta.

 

 

 

Actually it just added a whole new level of confusion.

 

 

 

Jaime went to the bathroom as soon as they arrived, the stern nurse handing him a specimen cup at the door. This all occurred while she was signing in and providing  information to the receptionist, so Anita didn't notice at first. In fact, she thought he was right next to her at the desk.

 

"Jaime when was the last time--?" She blinked when she turned to see nothing beside her. Just a large blooming holly plant in a Christmas themed pot on the floor beside the registration desk decked out in lights for the season. "Huh. I thought...wait."

 

Mrs. Bennett leaned over and sniffed. To her surprise, the tiny white flowers smelled exactly like what had been wafting off of her child for almost 6 monthes. Her baby boy smelled like holly?

 

"Oh, you noticed it too. Dr. Goshiki's mother sent her that to her as a sapling about five years ago from Japan. Up till now it's just been that weird bush in the background. This morning I came in then bam, pretty white flowers a plenty! Boy does it over power the chemically smell in here huh?" Josie smiled. "Looks like holly but it's not. Something Latin I can't pronounce. Nice little holiday suprise huh?"

 

After dinner that night and every thing was cleaned up, she got on her laptop and checked the plant out.

 

"Flowers of the Osmanthus family are known as False Hollies or Tea Olives and grow in a multitude of places, blooming at various times during the winter. Flowers of all tea olive species are intensely fragrant, often being compared to the scent of peaches, orange blossoms or jasmine. The most common flower color is creamy-white, but depending on cultivar, can vary to include pure white, pale to deep yellow, and orange. While individual flowers are small, the clusters are usually large and numerous enough to be quite showy.

 

Foliage is dark, leathery, and usually toothed along the edges. Growth habit of most species is dense and upright-oval to round in form." She read aloud.

 

/Well, I know WHAT he smells like. Just not WHY he does. Fantastic./

 

This was driving her crazy. She was running out of time! What if this was something horrible that was slowly killing him? Like the sickness eating her, that took Benjamin from them before their daughter was even born? It's not genetic they said but what if...just what if?! Could Sophie have it too? 

 

Was Jaime putting on a brave face in an attempt to keep her from worrying?

 

She had to find out before-

 

"Whatcha doin mom?" Speak of the devil. She knew she smelled spiced peaches.

 

"Just research sweetheart." She shook her head, a bit grateful he derailed her thoughts. They were barreling down a destructive track.

 

"About the flower I smell like." He leaned over her shoulder. "I'm not the only one."

 

He typed quickly.

 

"Cupcake." A deep red flower appeared. Flowering Quince. Then he typed again.

 

"Monty." Thin, spindly white petals. Sarcococca.

 

"Pippa." Lovely pink petals. Luculia.

 

"Claude." Tiny yellow blooms. Wintersweet.

 

"Caleb." Almost the exact same flower, just on a different plant. Winter Jasmine.

 

"Sophie." Fuchsia petals, Daphne.

 

"What?"

 

"Jack's not sure why, but we each smell like flowers that bloom in the snow. We knew there would be slow changes that made us more like him so he gave us these charms to make it less noticable but...for some reason it doesn't work for me so well. Claude thinks it's cuz I was his first." From under his shirt, he pulled a dazzling stone cut like a multi faceted teardrop. The thin metal chain seemed to vanish against his pale neck. Her son's eyes went wide once he mentally replayed that. "Um..."

 

"Jack, the older boy you made friends with when you were eight?" Behind that calculating expression brewed sheer terror. This guy, now a man had been a teen when their circle of friends started talking about him in grade school. She'd never seen, only heard things. Now she learns he's given them what looked like expensive jewellery. Jaime just said he was 'Jack's first.' What if this had been a silencing bribe? What if he did something unspeakable to them? Her babies?!

 

"It's not what you think mom. Calm down. He hasn't touched any of us in some weird way. Why do adults automatically assume he's a pedophile? He just..." Jaime moved her laptop before bring his index finger to her mug of tea. She jumped when it cracked. Then gasped as he flipped it upside down and a cylindrical block of brown ice thudded on the kitchen table. "...made us special."

 

"Oh my god..." she stared at the frozen tea in awe. This was so surreal!

 

"You were supposed to enjoy these last few years with us but you haven't because you're worried about us being sick too. So, Jack decided it was alright if we let our folks in on everything. We already know mom."

 

"Know what?" She poked at the block with her pen, not really paying attention.

 

"About the cancer."

 

 

 

THUNK. The mysterious ice ended up on the floor when her arm jerked.

 

 

 

Anita sat straight up upon hearing that. There was no way she heard that right.

 

"It's okay." He hugged her. Immediately, she wrapped him in a vice grip sobbing.

 

"How could you possibly know Jaime? I don't even look sick."

 

"No amount of make up, fancy wigs or fake smiles could hide it from us. Especially not anymore. Sophie and I probably sensed it before you even knew." It was his turn to hold onto her as she went limp in his arms, crying her eyes out.

 

What was happening? She'd been so careful, she was sure of it. Appointments made only during school hours, meds kept in her closet shelf. Knowing what to expect, she'd prepared for the eventual spread. Spent a small fortune in beauty products to cover up how pallid her skin became, her lovey blonde locks breaking off and falling out. The insurance would be more than enough to help Cynthia and Frank up in Pittsburgh take care of their niece and nephew when she died.

 

She would have told them once the pain was too much to bear and she could no longer pretend. If she could spare them the sadness as long as possible, she'd move heaven and hell to do it.

 

If only.

 

"Mom? I want you to know the two of us will be fine, just not with Aunt Cynthia and Uncle Frank." Jaime pulled back, looking her right in the eye.

 

"I don't understand, sweetheart. There's no one here that could take you in. I want you with family." Mrs. Bennett drug her white sweater sleeve across her face, to hell with the mess of cosmetic stains it left on the fabric.

 

"We will be. Let me explain." He sat down beside her, squeezing her hand. "About our big brother, St. Jackson."

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatcha think? Not everyone who has cancer can hide it, but a lucky few can. My 8th grade history teacher did; not even his wife, a cardiologist, knew. This chapter happens about a year before Monty dies so ages are 15-16 and 9. So far, three families know Jack is real. 
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> Jaime is Jack's first believer, that makes him more powerful than his friends.
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> Geek alert
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> All the flowers used bloom in early to late winter and are native to lots of countries. When they bloom, they are hella strong sometimes sufocatingly so. Smelling like very sweet things, they remind people of everything from spices to fruit to candies. They're real pretty too, such vivid colors are also why are commonly used as ornamentals that time of year
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> Dr. Goshiki's name comes from a breed of false hollies native to several islands in Japan. It means five colors 
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.
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> Oh! I'm trying to find someone interested in using my version of St. Jackson in a Supernatural crossover. I would love to see how a good SPN fan writer would portray Sam and Dean meeting/hunting St. Jackson and possibly his lil frost flowers. Any takers?


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, dark chapter. Bringing up the issue that this course of events in such a small town is really fucking noticeable as well.
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> I always intended to expand upon the Saint of Suicide theme. Jack's words to Monty about saints having more than one vocation kinda hinted at it in Part 4. You'll see what I mean soon.

 

*wda*

 

"You alright there?" The porcelain arm of an older teen in a midnight colored sleeve wrapped around a crying girl.

 

"Uh huh." A soft feminine voice sighed, leaning into the chest of the hand on her shoulder.

 

"You sure?" Another deathly pale young boy with bowl cut white hair asked. The front parted in the shape of a wide heart. Rather large blue framed glasses slid down his nose, exposing sapphire eyes. He pushed them back up on reflex without a thought. Standing next to him was the taller girl who could definitely pass for his big sister. Same hair, eyes and complexion.

 

"Yeah." She smiled, sliding her new navy colored winter cap over her stark white hair and drying her eyes. "Come on, we gotta make it snow for Christmas!"

 

Three ghostly children walked a short ways across the festively decorated lawn before the wind swept them high into the sky across the full moon.

 

*wda*

 

 

 

God did he hate these cases.

 

If you feel so bad death seems like the only answer, then peace be with you.

 

The instant you decide others need to die with you, you become a monster.

 

Detective Radcliff found himself standing in a room unable to look at one victim of a double murder suicide. Young enough to remind him of his own daughter was the first thing he thought of. She looked to be only sleeping, certainly in better condition than the bloody mess splattered all over the kitchen down stairs yet she was tougher to witness. Her brown hair kept in place by her white knit cap maintained the illusion; when the coroners moved her body, that illusion shattered.

 

Underneath, her skull looked to have expoded. The bullet entered the right side of her head with no exit wound. No blood. Why? Probably something to do with the fact that for some reason, this part of the house felt like a a meat locker.

 

The heater kept every other room a toasty 80° Fahrenheit. Despite the bed room door having been discovered open, the temperature in this room was somehow 2° Fahrenheit. A CSI tech had slipped and fallen in the thin layer of ice coating the polished wood. Frost patterns crept over everything from the inside of the windows to the walls to evey bit of furniture including the bed. And the young lady's body nestled serenely in the center, under a lavender quilt, was frozen solid. No chance of determining the exact time of death. Logically, she had been shot well after freezing to death and the back of her head fractured like glass from the impact.

 

Logic was the last word Radcliff would use to describe this shit. What a fucked up way to spend his Christmas morning.

 

*wda*

 

 

 

The story made headlines in a sleepy little town where nothing much happened.

 

Bank manager Herschel Jaeger had been embezzling hundreds of thousands of dollars from Burgess Consolidated over the last 10 years. As technology improved, it became harder and harder to cover his tracks. Eventually, the bank would get suspicious of the missing money.

 

Neighbors reported a ruckus Christmas Eve but the weather made going to investigate that night impossible. Christmas day, the flash storm had subsided but now it was painfully clear something awful already happened. The family tradition of burning cinnamon bark in the fire place wasn't observed. The sixteen year old and her mother had not come outside to play in the fresh snow. The Christmas lights were still on at 10 am. No one answered the phone. 

 

Mrs. Jaeger took a horrible beating. She must have run from husband and been pistol whipped to death when he missed her three times. Two bullets grazed her right leg and left shoulder. The other three were embedded along the hallway connecting the dining room and kitchen. 

 

The marriage was falling apart and on the fast track to divorce. Barbara had been savagely bludgeoned to death by a killer fueled by anger and rage directed at her. Knowing what that would lead to, he killed his daughter first, out of 'love'. Making sure she never felt a thing. Never saw what he intended to do to her poor mother.

Then had the decency to dangle his sorry ass from the banister over looking the family room.

 

In an eerie side note, it seems the headstones for the family were already made. Adults, sure he understood. Radcliff's folks purchased theirs with the plot. His father rests next to his mother's empty grave, her death date not yet inscribed as she was still fit as a fiddle. Barbara and Herschel's would soon be completed.

 

But their daughter's already was.

 

 

 

Pippa Lola Jaeger

 

April 15, 2004  -  December 24, 2020

 

One of the Burgess Seven

 

 

 

The funeral home had no record of when it was finished or even who paid for it. The family wasn't even going to use the creepy thing until they found her journal.

 

Dated the 23rd, the last page stated that she pitied her daddy, he made a lot mistakes and wasn't strong enough to fix them the right way. Still, she could finally be with her big brother Jack and brother Monty and that made her happy. She was only angry that her daddy wasn't as gentle with her mom.

 

And to please use the grave marker she asked her big brother's coworker to make.

 

...

 

Pippa was an only child. Monty happens to be the friend of hers that died a month prior. His epitaph was the same, verbatim. The marble slabs mirrored each other in every way except the colored flowers etched on them. Monty's sported a flowering branch of snowy Sarcococca while a cluster of pastel pink Luculia blossoms adorned Pippa's. 

 

This made no sense. Furthermore, how could this Jack know the exact date she would be killed? How did she?

 

Could he be the same Jack their little club called Jack Frost?

 

Did she take a bath in nitrogen before daddy put a gun to her head?

 

What the hell was going on?! So many questions with no answer.

 

All the detective knew was of this so called Burgess 7, only 5 were still alive. His gut telling him that number would continue to shrink until there were none.

 

Alone in his apartment that night, he took a large swig of his alcoholic eggnog. Minus the actual nog.

 

 

 

"Merry Fucking Christmas."

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's two down. Anyone know who the coworker is? Pretty sure you all do n_n
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> Yes, adults alway associating Jack with bad things is a recurring theme.
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> Once Upon a Time fans, notice the names of Pippa's parents? Barbara & Herschel. Barbara Hershey, the Queen of Hearts and Regina's mother. There is no real explanation for that though I just did it. 
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> *shrugs*
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out!


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seriously fucks with a grown man's psyche. Hearing then seeing dead children will do that. So will watching them lead others to god knows where.

 

 

 

*wda*

 

How was this his life?

 

Radcliff once again found himself standing at the scene of a tragedy specifically involving the Burgess 7, or rather 5. 

 

 

 

Well 5 just became 3.

 

 

 

Freak accident didn't begin to cover it. According to reports, the twins were on their way home from the store when Caleb, the one never without his orange hat stopped to tie his shoe. His brother Claude patiently waited beside him. A driver lost control over a bit of black ice and hopped the curb plowing straight into them. Their small bodies were pinned to the very building they'd just left with such force, the wall was now covered in spider webbed cracks.

 

They were pronounced dead on the scene. Probably had no idea it even happened. The driver did loose control but the ocycodone he'd been popping  all day without a prescription didn't help his judgment or motor skills at all. The 22 year old's life now included at least 5 years in prison.

 

An open and shut case of wrong place, wrong time. Right?

 

 

 

Right?

 

 

 

Not likely. As he interviewed witnesses, bizarre things started to crop up.

 

For one how the boys behaved right before. They hung out on the drugstore for a long while just browsing. The investigator started to mention to the elderly pharmacist that just because the town's non-caucasian populous was rather small didn't mean racial profiling was okay, the man cut him off.

 

"Hush you ninny. The Whitmore boys came in every day after school rain or shine since they'd been youngins. Never had a problem once. Polite everytime, they said hi and asked me how I was doin. Always lookin for new comics. Caleb bought a snickers with a coke and Claude got a milky way with ginger ale whether the new issues arrived or not then they left. In and out 15 minutes tops. Today was so strange. The two of em milled about a good half hour before they left." Mr. Gladwell cleaned his glasses.

 

"No bags, they didn't make their usual purchase?"

 

"Well, they did but...they didn't take 'em out the store. Dropped two half eaten candy bars in the trash and never opened their pop. Left the latest 'Adventures of Silverstone' in the plastic on the counter. Both looked a might peakid too. What else struck me odd detective is they were concerned about time. Kept checkin their phones, waiting til 4:39. Walked out at few minutes before that though."

 

Back the hell up. Thaddeus Burgess High let out around 3:45 on Wednesdays and probably would have taken the twins about 20 minutes to walk to Gladwell Pharmacy. What were they waiting for--

 

"Claude noticed the time first, said they couldn't be late to meet Jack."

 

Not possible.

 

"Any other names you heard?"

 

"Recon Caleb smiled about hugging Pippa and Monty again. The girl that always wore that white hat. She died on Christmas didn't she? Lil Jewish boy passed after Thanksgiving. What on earth was he on about? Excuse me, I gotta get back to the counter. Be back in a few. Comin Mrs. Irving."

 

Are you serious? This Jack character again got linked to his little friends' deaths, however tangentially. The surviving Felder boy mentioned Monty had been babbling about a Jack telling him to let go right before he blacked out. Pippa's diary talked about how happy it made her to finally be with her 'brothers' Jack and Monty. Now two that just died seemed excited about seeing the three of them. Two of which were dead as doornails.

 

One of which had never been seen by any of the parents as far as he knew. Who, based upon secondary accounts and over heard conversations, was probably a man in his mid to late twenties by now.

 

"Why is this guy obsessed with these children? 4:39 is about the time the car ran those two over...Is this guy somehow orchestrating their deaths?"

 

 

 

Yep. Those thoughts sounded just as insane out loud as it did in his head. 

 

 

 

While pondering, he noticed the last three kids behind the yellow tape. None of them looked horrified by the scene, not even the youngest. Eventually the trio just walked away like they'd watched a vaguely interesting street performance.

 

"Know I'm going to regret this."

 

Exiting into the alley, he managed to catch part of their conversation. And the distinct feeling he was missing a lot more than what had been said before he caught up to them.

 

"Did it hurt? For any of you?" Jaime asked the open air beside him then nodded. "Oh."

 

"I know it hurt when you died Jack." Sophie sniffled. Her teary eyes trained on the same spot next to her brother. Suddenly she started to giggle as if being tickled. "I give! It's in the past already! Put me down Jack! Uncle!" 

 

Jaime and Cupcake laughed. Even harder when the ten year old seemed to LIFT OFF THE GROUND during her giggle fit. Uncle was the magic word apparently since her sneakers once more touched the sidewalk.

 That...was a trick of the light. Or something. It had to be.

"In a few more weeks it will all be over. Wonder if my family will even notice when I'm gone." Cupcake frowned. She paused and looked to her left seemingly at nothing. "Thanks Pip. Race you guys to the park!"

 

With that the group hauled ass down the sidewalk. No one noticing the weird conversation. Not one head turned from the accident site, even when the Bennett boy shouted in frustration.

 

"Awe no fair! We can't fly yet!"

 

Radcliff swore he heard chuckling in the wind.

 

 

 

*wda*

 

A few days later, he sat at his desk the three incident reports on his desk. He couldn't get this out of his head.

 

That's another thing. Neither teen attempted to get out of harms way. In fact, they'd held hands and closed their eyes. For the third time, the cause of death wasn't what it seemed. Hypothermia killed them not the impact. Autopsy had no explanation.

 

In front of his computer at the station, he threw 'Jack Frost', 'children' and 'death' into Google for the hell of it. Not sure what he expected to find but this wasn't it.

 

A lot of sites about the legend of Jack Frost, the sprite that brought winter and nipped at your nose with his frigid winds. Plenty referenced the stop motion children's movies that featured him. Some were about horror movie versions. The one that got to him though happened to be titled Prayers for Saint Jackson.

 

/The world is filled with beings that watch over us, children especially. St. Jackson is the shepherd of the lost and broken of them. Young ones pray to him when past pleas have fallen on deaf ears. He guides the dead and dying to the world beyond even when they don't know he leads the way./

Sam didn't read much further, the eerie music playing on the site earned him too many weird looks.

 

"Hey, I'll be back Mark. Tell the Chief I needed a break."

 

"Will do." A hand waved from behind the adjacent monitor.

 

With a sigh he grabbed his coat and hopped into his little blue jeep. Driving on the back roads always cleared his mind. After a short while though, he saw that wasn't going to happen today.

 

At least twenty kids were just wandering down the shadowed rural road he picked for a drive. A few more appeared out of a thicket of trees to join their friends. The uniforms suggested they attended Old Forge Academy in the neighboring town of the same name.

 

All were following four kids in the lead with white hair, pale skin and blue clothing. Two were European in complexion: a smaller, mousy boy with glasses and a girl with a dancer's build and dark cap. Two were a faded brown color, identical boys, one wearing a blue hat similar to the girl's. 

 

Exiting his car to get there attention, Sam waved his hands and shouted. This road would lead them home on a bus but at this point in the route Burgess was still much closer. They'd be exhausted before they were halfway there!

 

"What are you doing?! Town is the other way!" 

 

Some stumbled breifly seemingly confused. Unsure who to follow. Blinking wearily, a few even turned to face him.

 

The young girl of the group with white hair glared at him, raising her voice to drown him out. His stomach knotted when he realized she wasn't talking. She was singing.

"Come little children I'll take thee away,

Into a land of Enchantment.

Come little children the time's come to play,

Here in my garden of Shadows.

Follow sweet children I'll show thee the way,

Through all the pain and the Sorrows.

Weep not poor children for life is this way,

Murdering beauty and Passions.

Hush now dear children it must be this way

To weary of life and Deceptions.

Rest now my children for soon we'll away,

Into the calm and the Quiet

Come little children I'll take thee away,

Into a land of Enchantment

Come little children the time's come to play

Here in my garden of Shadows..."

That same creepy song playing on the St Jackson website. If she were humming it, it would match the instrumental version to a tee. By the time she began to sing it over, they were all were walking at the same pace in the same direction again. Oblivious to the grown man frantically trying to get their attention.  

 

"You should just give up." The hat wearing twin spoke.

 

"They can't hear you over the song." His brother added.

 

"Where would you take them anyway?

 

"The living can't console the dead."

 

 

WHAT?!

 

 

Literally two seconds ago, a considerable stretch of road separated Radcliff and the stragglers of the group. Now the demonic double mint twins were far too close for comfort. Wait a minute...

 

"The Whitmore twins?" They were almost unrecognizable. Brown eyes were now a piercing blue...

 

"Yes?" Both chimed. 

 

Wow.

 

That's...

 

Not...

 

Disturbing...

 

"You can see us," Afro spoke first this time.

 

"so you must believe." His hatted sibling finished.

 

"Looks like you're freaking out though." Afro laughed.

 

"Are you okay mister?"

 

 

Um, no. Sam knew that acid he dropped in college would come back to haunt him one day. Yeah, this was a hallucination.

 

"You might wanna snap outta it."

 

"There's a truck coming."

 

On cue, a loud horn blared.

 

"Off the road dumb ass!" The irrate driver yelled as he went by

 

"Stop! Don't you see-!" The vehicle kept on rolling down the deserted street. Not a child in sight. "What the hell is going on?!"

 

For a moment, he kept staring at the green truck disappearing in the disstance. Until vibrations against his thigh brought him out of the daze.

 

"Sam where the hell are you? Been trying to radio you for an hour!"

 

"I-uh-what's up Sandra?" Still rather out of it, the detective massaged his eyes before trudging back to his jeep.

 

"A busload of students from Old Forge never made it back after a field trip here." Dispatch sighed. "The teacher's cellphone last pinged along Sailstone Road."

 

"Sailstone?"

 

The name of the back road he was currently standing on.

 

/Fucking hell. I'm losing my god damned mind./

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I let Siren, my dark muse, influence this chapter. So, Sam Radcliff is slowly unraveling things. Now what'll come undone first? The mystery or his sanity? 
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> FYI
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> Anybody (admin, various trolls and assorted asshats) wanna bitch and moan about copyrighted material, "Come Little Children" is a public domain work. Like most nursery rhymes (however creepy), nobody really knows who wrote it so no one has legitimate license. Not even Disney for it's partial use in Hocus Pocus.
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> All anyone is certain of is Edgar Allen Poe probably didn't write this, it's not in any of his published or unpublished works. 
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> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone not too creeped out to stop reading yet :3
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> Last chapter we saw the 4 deceased Burgess believers leading the souls of children killed in a bus accident to the afterlife. The newest of the quartet, Caleb and Claude, quite amused by Detective Radcliff's ability to see them and subsequent impeding mental break down. Pippa sings like a siren to guide the children; when distracted from her song, they stop moving and look confused. That will be explained later.
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> This chapter will explain my reasoning for Pitch hating the moon so much (part of it is cannon, part of it isn't) and how the seasons came to be.
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> For reference sake this happens right before part 8.

 

 

 

 

*wda*

 

Jack had long passed the seasonal torch to his elder sister by late March yet his lake remained frozen solid as it had year round for centuries. Something not even Shemu would be able to undo. Not that he ever tried. Even though the Summer spirit was barred by his father's colossal fuck up from ever meeting his half brother until very recently, he still knew that Burgess Lake was sacred. It was never meant to thaw.

 

This year, winter had ended early thanks to Phil the Groundhog's prediction. Or rather the prediction of his avatar for this region, Punxsutawney Phil.

 

 

 

What?

 

 

 

Weather predictions for one area are complicated enough. You do it for all corners of the globe AT ONCE. Yeah, you bet he gets help.

 

Here Jack stood on the shore, ankle deep in grass waiting for Mother Nature. His time of year had passed in this region but his lake provided a sense of comfort. He was worried. About a lot of things. Recently they'd begun to fester under his skin like a cancer.

 

"Hello my Snow Angel." The nature goddess smiled. "Mariposa said she'd spoken to you, you have questions for me. What's on your mind?"

 

"Mother...I need to know something." He took a deep breath. Like ripping off a bandaid, as they say. "Why do you even care about me?"

 

Seraphina drew back as if struck.

 

"You're my child-"

 

"We both know that's not true. Mariposa, Shemu and Anis...you gave birth to them. They're spirits, forces of nature but alive. Warm blooded. For me breathing is only a reflex. I don't even have a heart beat. If I touch some for too long they'll get frostbite. I'm a frozen corpse."

 

"No sweetness!" She wrapped him in a crushing hug. His frigid skin not bothering her in the slightest. "You are my little one, no matter what. I just wish I could have been there for you."

 

"But..."

 

"If it will ease your mind, I will tell you, alright?" She stroked his hair, guiding him to sit. She wasn't concerned with the grass ruining her silken gold gown. "Just...listen to everthing first okay?"

 

"Okay..."

 

"Good."

 

She began a long time ago, exactly how long was lost to her but certainly before anything like the Guardians existed.

 

A young girl lost her father to the very thing he protected against. His imprisoned enemy stole her face, made him believe her to be in danger. In it's deceit, it was able to possess him. Warping him into the being known as Pitch Black.

 

Under this evil influence, he laid waste to countless worlds. His daughter wanted so badly to save her father, she sought the one who would become the Man in the Moon, Tsar Lunanoff. Even though the war had killed his beloved wife, he could not bring himself to hate the one responsible for her death.

 

Pitch had been his noble general and the Tsar felt his fate was his fault. The girl learned that the Tsar had been working to save him by weakening the hold of creatures that possessed him. His cure did work...to a point.

 

His mind had been too tainted to heal. His very essence too changed. The fearlings no longer controlled him, he simply became the most powerful one, the Nightmare King. When he looked upon his daughter for the first time since his insanity began, Pitch became enraged. For the years spent working to cure her father had drawn her and the Tsar very close. Now she was heavy with the seed of his greatest foe.

 

He rejected her.

 

Wishing to console his new bride and preserve those who remained alive, the Tsar brought them all to Earth. First though, he severely weakened the Nightmare King. Lunanoff discovered he could not kill his enemy even if he didn't fear upsetting his wife. Fearlings are creatures that feed on the fear of others. So long as fear existed, so would Pitch Black. Instead, he sealed him away.

 

But no prison can contain fear forever.

 

"By the time he broke free, his daughter had become immortal, like himself. Though she now governed the forces of nature. The three children she bore the Tsar became the seasons. Had he not changed her, she would not have survived the birth.

 

In time, her anguish began to drive a wedge between the two. Eventually she stopped speaking to her husband. Until the night he rose you from this lake. She raged at the Moon until she was hoarse. Recieving not a whisper in response."

 

"Pitch is...oh no. Mother I fought your father?!"

 

"Yes Snow Angel. He never forgave Manny for 'stealing me away.' Though the war had ended long ago, Pitch is stuck between his desire and need to feast on fear and his hatred for the Moon. What's worse, the world would suffer greatly should he ever fade away. As horrible as it seems, fear is a necessity of life. Always has been-"

 

"Always will be. I've been pissing him off a lot longer than before I became a guardian. I take children's fears away with fun in the snow. Then by granting them mercy and watching over them in death."

 

"Snow Angel, you are as you are because Manny wanted to please me and miscalculated. I was still angry with him, depressed. Winter used to be a wild time of almost certain doom, disobeying me constantly. The only one to tame it, a master death could not ravage." She grew quiet, searching his face for a reaction. She knew the cogs in his mind had turned furiously since she began speaking. When he pulled away, her heart sank. Turning his head, a quiet sob escaped his lips.

 

 

 

/He must hate me.../

 

 

 

"Mother, I'm sorry." 

 

That shocked her.

 

"Whatever do you have to be sorry for?"

 

"I hurt your feelings. Brought up memories better left uncovered."

"You have no reason to feel guilty. Just know you are the son of my brilliant but...over eager husband. And I love you no less for it. Jack Frost, you ARE my child in every way that counts."

With a soft smile, she drew him to her chest, the side of his face pressing into the skin her collar exposed. Seraphina stroked his hair, rocking him gently and humming. The two sat like this for sometime. 

 

A mother comforting her distraught little boy.

 

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there's a little bit more of Jack's origins. Now you know how the seasons were born and how Sera became Mother Nature. I must say I am pleased with how this story is progressing. Thanks to the loose structure of time and all the glorious feedback on ffnet and AO3.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs, Sirensoundwave out.


	14. Part 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.
> 
> Um...
> 
> Okay I really don't know how to explain this chapter. Seriously. Nothing naughty happens persay but if the ending to Parts 7 and 8 nearly gave you a heart attack, this will probably squick you out.
> 
>  
> 
> There is a very logical explanation for Jack's behavior in the end notes. Whether or not it's distressing and/or eerie is entirely up to you.
> 
>  
> 
> For those of you a bit discombobulated by the hopscotching around in time, consider this: it gives me more freedom to explain background, get ideas out immediately and continue without getting writer's block. I promise to give general time markers in the notes and in the chapter such as references and stating ages.
> 
>  
> 
> If it helps, think of this as a series of heavily connected one shots.
> 
>  
> 
> On the plus side, I did not lie about the rating. This story will stay a solid T.
> 
>  
> 
> Picking up a short while after Manny gives his explanation to the big four in part 5.
> 
>  
> 
> Here we go!

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

Jack enjoyed the feeling of Jaime's lips own. So soft and warm. The child's mouth quite accepting of his tongue.

 

The sensation of pulling the boy's essence from his tiny body was beyond compare. Watching those honey brown eyes flare sapphire blue gave a satisfaction best expressed with a single word.

 

Mine.

 

Looking down at the zoned out 9 year old hanging limp in his arms filled him with such desire to hide him from the world. 

 

Jamie was HIS.

 

So was Monty.

 

Pippa.

 

Claude and Caleb.

 

Cupcake.

 

Even little Sophie. Take that Easter Kangaroo. 

 

Though she was still too young for this ritual just yet. He couldn't just claim the children; they had to  surrender part of themselves to him for the bond to cement. In order for that to happen, they had to understand what was occurring.

 

Binding them (no matter what Father's plan, no matter what Jack himself wanted) without their consent would be predatory. 

 

Whimsical, impulsive Jack Frost had far more patience than most realized. He'd waited four centuries for them, a few more years was nothing. Soon enough, his lovely garden of frozen flowers would be completed. Jaime was only the first blossom to open. The sweet scent of false holly was already filling the room. 

 

He thought briefly on what his fellow guardians, other spirits in general, would think. Coming to a realization as quicky as he thought about it.

 

He didn't give a fuck.

 

His rivalry with Bunny was legendary on it's own. But Tucker (why everyone called him Tom made no sense) the Turkey was already terrified of him even though he fell under Anis' domain. That ice storm wasn't his fault. He was a little depressed that year, so sue him.

 

Callaghan didn't so much fear him as was wary. The leprechaun witnessed aspects of the sprite that frightened him and simply steered clear. One of the few major representations that had ever really observed Jack. And suspected source of many terrifying stories about him.

 

Though it was understandable. Callaghan first mistook him for a banshee after witnessing him sing to a crying child that clearly heard but not saw him.  Said child suddenly got swept into the shadows and her screaming ended with an unsettling abruptness. The white eyed spectre simply waited, let the murderer walk off before leading her ghost away. Then Jack learned the little Irishman once compared him to Cailleach, the wrathful goddess of winter and death. Even a ghastly dullahan! His head was firmly attached to his neck, thank you very much! He sucked at horseback riding while alive and has no use for it now that he could fly.

 

All of these Celtic fae were terrifying sights to behold, equated with ominous or dark things. His gorgeous, youthful appearance and carefree behavior somehow made these associations all the more frightening. It lended him an air of deception. 

 

Wickedness.

 

Jack didn't like it at all. His job was bad enough without misinformation making it worse! He sang, whistled or hummed for children he reaped, those going to die whether they wanted to or not, because they often didn't believe. Still his power allowed him to be heard by those who need to hear.  It distracted them from their fate. Once their hearts stopped, they could see him but were often so confused. The sound of his voice insured they followed to their destination calmly.

 

He couldn't help that he looked the way he did!

 

While patron of good fortune simply got his facts wrong Cupid on the other hated his guts. His argument: The essence of true love and romance had no business being subject to the rule of a monster. It burned him up something fierce that as a winter holiday mascot, he had no choice but to do whatever Jack demanded. Something he'd never done anyway for two reasons. Firstly, no one ever told him he had anymore control over winter than snow and death.

 

(Wasn't like anyone told him that either. Not for his new found siblings' and Mother Nature's lack of trying.)

 

Second, he had no desire to lord his will over anybody. Harmless jesting and playful annoyance were more his speed. But did anyone care to notice? Would anyone listen?

 

Of course not. Demons always lie.

 

So, naturally, the magical world would see this as proof. No matter what Manny said, someone would doubt and rumors would persist. How such rumors never made it to the Guardians' ears before now, he had no clue.

 

His last light's soft moan snapped him out of his thoughts. In his sleep, Jamie had shifted and cuddled closer to his chest. A wonderful aspect of father's solution.

 

Holding one of his little ones no longer held the danger injury or hypothermia. Over time, they would even subconsciously seek out his frigid touch as their own warmth gradually bled away. And Jack saw nothing wrong with that. However the families surely would.

 

And rightly assume their precious child was slowly dying. The streak of white that instantly adorned Jamie's bangs might alarm Mrs. Bennett too...

 

Placing his charge under the covers, the snow spirit softly blew into his cupped hands. The result, a beautiful tear shaped crystal. Fragile looking eternal ice harder than a diamond with a crystalline chain to match. Touching it to the boy's skin, the white hair shimmered before once again matching the rest of his chestnut locks. 

 

Another facet of his powers that had been locked away in his mind until last year. Though glad for the instant success, a frown creases his lips briefly. That enticing smell was masked as well. 

 

He'd have to remind Jaime to leave the charm off for a little while but only around him. Or when alone with the others.

 

No need to wake him right this minute though. The established link would let them stay in contact no matter how far apart. No rush to talk about it. The night was young and he still had four other houses to visit. 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah that happened.
> 
>  
> 
> But, I have an explanation!
> 
>  
> 
> Do you really think centuries of isolation with the exception of those who could only interact with him as he took their lives wouldn't leave Jackie with a few screws loose?
> 
>  
> 
> Not on your life. Our Dark Angel turned out touch starved, possessive and a scoche disturbed. Don't worry though, he'll be a good big brother. What that means may open to interpretation.
> 
>  
> 
> This story isn't quite horror nor is it light hearted.
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


	15. Part 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo!
> 
> Much love to everyone who keeps on reading and reviewing. As a rule, I generally don't name names but do try to answer questions posed in reviews and private messages.
> 
> The issue from last chapter is called tactile deprivation or touch starvation. It's a real thing, I shit you not. Basically defined as the need to have physical human contact usually (but not always) after being denied said contact for long stretches of time. Sometimes petting an animal helps but usually it needs to be another person. It's not always sexual either. Unfortunately those affected by the condition often come across as creeps. Especially when they don't notice, understand, or care how others might perceive thier behavior. The need can sometimes override common sense as well.
> 
> Conversely the term can also be used to identify those don't react well to or have no desire for any tactile connections at all.
> 
> Which brings me to another point. Some were starting to think I'm investing way too much research into real world applications for this story. Not really, just waving my nerd flag again. I am a walking conglomeration of otherwise useless facts. The celtic folklore stuff I already knew. The touch deprivation stuff too. :/
> 
> As for showing all the rituals, wait and see n_n
> 
> Alright. 
> 
> This chapter focuses on Jacob and a little Detective Radcliff at the end. Though it technically comes after the twins get hit (then screw with the poor man), it contains a flashback explanation from a short time after Monty dies. I'm expanding on Jake's discovery of Jack being real.

Jacob wondered why he chose to cut across this god forsaken field to get home from work. Sure it was way shorter than the big ass loop the paved road made but the flurries had masked the ground. Rocks, depressions and an assortment of hazards barely stood out. The weak light provided by the half moon helped nothing. His ankle surely did not appreciate him twisting it in that hole.

 

What a stupid idea!

 

"God I'm so damn hot!"

 

Tired and aching, he watched a figure dart across the field. His brain supplied him with the information that it was a young girl, this tract of the field did run behind some houses after all. Still, it was 10:16 night. She was dressed only in a pair of really short pajama bottoms and a cami. No coat. Or shoes. A white knit hat was her only appropriate attire.

 

It was a week before Christmas, the average high temperature in Burgess was 25 degrees! What the hell was she-

 

His eyes widened as he noticed it was the Jaeger girl. Then narrowed once he saw what she was running towards. That creature, Jack. He stood near a grove of trees lightly dusted with snow.

 

Midstride, he turned and crouched behind the only thing he could: an abandoned sofa. How convenient. Close enough to observed. Hopefully it hadn't seen him.

 

Without slowing down, she flung herself into the white haired demon's arms.

 

"I can't stand it! Please, I need you to touch me Jack! Feels like I'm burning up!"

 

Oh how wrong that sounded.

 

Jacob knew what he was about to see would not help what that exclamation brought to mind. It would be wrong on so many levels. An intimate moment spied on. An intimate moment spied on involving an underaged girl...sixteen but appearing twelve. And whatever the fuck this 'boy' was. Jack wasn't human, no telling how old he really was. Sick pervert...

 

"Shhh." He slid one pale hand under the back of her top, wraping the other arm around her waist. Fingertips caressing her bare thigh. "Better?"

 

"Mmhmm." She snuggled into the crook of his neck, her own arms around his neck.

 

"I'm sorry you're hurting sweetheart. Not much longer now." He said gently. He removed the his hand resting below her waist to fiddle with something around her neck. There seemed to be a ripple around her frame before...

 

The scent of cloves and honey hit him like a freight train.

 

The brown in her hair evaporated, leaving it stark white. The healthy glow of her skin replaced by the same frosty complexion as the thing. Pleased with the change, Jack buried his nose in her cap and inhaled deeply. A blissful expression plastered on his face. The snowflake tattoo on her right shoulder blade stood out even more.

 

"We have an audience." He sighed and Pippa jumped. "Don't worry, he sees me. You aren't floating in mid air."

 

"But..."

 

"It's not polite to sneak around Jake. You didn't really think I failed to notice a grown man walking less than thirty feet away did you? It's not quite that dark. Come on out and say hi."

 

"I knew you'd show again, monster. Answer me this time. What are you doing to these kids?" He blurted out. "Besides being Mr. Bad Touch?"

 

Jack laughed at that.

 

"So you had no problem with hiding while the 'monster' had it's wicked way with the distressed damsel. How chivalrous. Or maybe you're one of those kinky guys."

 

Jacob's ears reddened in embarrassment. So not true! He panicked okay!

 

"Don't be mean." Pippa murmured quietly.

 

"Only teasing." The hand under her top made slow soothing circles under the cloth."It's only a bad touch if it makes her uncomfortable. As you can see, the opposite is true. What I'm doing is collecting what's mine."

 

A grim sense of knowing washed over the man. It shouldn't be a shock but...something pressed him to confirm it.

 

"You killed my brother. That's not enough for you?! You plan to kill the other six as well?!"

 

"Yes and no."

 

"Stop with the riddles!"

 

"Hmph. Rude much? I'm helping them shed their mortal bodies. But I don't decide when. " He huffed, annoyed. "This is her true form, isn't she lovely? In a few days, she'll look this way all the time. Forever. Until then, she needs skin contact with me often, or she overheats. Just like Monty."

 

Pippa twisted around in his arms, revealing her eyes now to be an unnatural blue. Suddenly shy, she shrank into his form. A light blush across her face. Well he supposed she was blushing. Her cheeks tinted a faint blue.

 

"..." Jacob swallowed thickly, disgusted by what he was seeing and hearing. That had been the reason for those bizarre, inexplicable fevers a few days before the hiking trip?

 

Before the crash...

 

"Are you hearing this Pippa?! Don't you care that this thing slaughtered someone you knew? And intends to murder you too?"

 

All that earned him was a harsh glare from her. This thing's mind whammy sure was something strong. Jack must have done the same to Monty. Why else would he just give up like that? Even with their derpy moments, Felders were fighters!

 

"Better for Jack to end my life than my own father. Then we can all be together."

 

*wda*

 

Radcliff looked down at his notes. So far he'd learned that Jack was a winter...something... that began hanging around the Burgess 7 when they were mostly 8 or 9. Their little group stopped aging, freezing them in time. Now Jack Frost was collecting them like dolls.

 

The strange instances of heat exhaustion, fever and over heating all four went through was apparently caused and ironically eased by this Jack Frost.

 

Talking with staff at the local high school revealed the school nurse had been concerned about Whitmore twins that day. A teacher reported the two looked kinda sick, possibly feverish but refused to go to the clinic.

 

Yearbook pictures the surviving Felder boy showed him of Montague with his technology club were ridiculous. Less than five feet tall, he looked like a pixy among giants. He had to sit on an elevated desk just to be included in the shots. Taken days before the wreck, the poor boy obviously wasn't feeling well. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead despite the smile.

 

The recent incident prompted some interest from the higher ups. The purpose of this little fact finding expedition was to compile a report, determine if these deaths were related. If a full scale investigation was needed. Of course, he sure as hell had no intentions of putting any of what he'd just gathered in that report. He could kiss his gun and badge goodbye when they carted him off to his private rubber room.

 

"Listen, if you think of anything else, give me a call." Closing his pad, he handed the nervous young man his card.

 

"Thanks. I'm glad to know you saw it too."

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Didn't have to. You have the same look as Mrs. Bennett and the Whitmores. Can't explain it but maybe you should see them too."

 

"Hn. Maybe I will." Sam nodded.

 

/But not before I see a MY friend Jack. Jack Daniels./

 

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like poor Jack is still an it to Jacob. Understandably.
> 
> Yes, the touching thing is here to stay. 
> 
> Now we know the purpose of the charms isn't just to hide their new appearances. It actually stabilizes their bodies. The closer they get to their death date, the more their bodies reject the spirit inside.
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	16. Part 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.
> 
> For those who continue to hang in there with me, love you lots. For those reading this on ffnet, I've the tag list for this from AO3. New readers prolly saw it in part 1. The reason being ffnet only gives you a small summary space. This story has also evolved from the oneshot it was meant to be and I cannot hope to convey that in what amounts to two or three tweets.
> 
>  
> 
> Here's a chapter involving the magical world at large. How the system of myths, legends, etc works. And how biased it is.The slightlyDark!Jack and child abuse tags come into play as well.
> 
> Snark and a wee bit of violence ahoy.

 

*wda*

"Order!" Father Time boomed. Stroking his long grey beard with one hand, pounding his time staff with the other.

The hall instantly quieted. Only soft murmurs and the rattle of chains could be heard. Center stage stood none other than Jack Frost, bound in iron shackles.

This.

Blows.

Frost couldn't believe for the second time in 4 years he'd been shoved in a sack, abducted via portal and dumped out somewhere he'd rather not be. At least the welcome to North's workshop had been for a guest of honor. This was customary treatment for prisoners.

"Exhibit A."

An image appeared above for all to see. A memory in third person.

A middle-aged man came into view, feebly crawling across stained wood floors. The red shirt he wore had definitely been peach colored when he put it on that morning.  Human legs don't bend that way. Fingers don't either.

The cause of his injuries loomed over him. Like a nightmarish angel, Jack stood covered head to toe in the man's blood. Grinning maniacally, he fingered a small blade crafted from ice. Eyes wide, the wrong color. Deep purple.

"Oh, I wish you could see me..." his foot came down on a clearly broken ankle. An anguished scream rewarded him. "But...your terror wouldn't be as awesome. Kinda see why Pitch likes this shit.."

"Please don't kill him Jack..." A young voice whispered. Tiny arms wrapped around his waist from behind. The child wasn't concerned about the stains smeared across his hoodie.

"Are you sure precious? He hurt you so badly. I just finished healing you ."

"He's still my dad. I can't explain it I just...please?" Her ivory cheeks glistened with tears, big blue eyes pleading. Rust colored crust matted to her short silvery hair, staining the thin white ribbon she wore. Her pink night gown was torn, dirty from dried blood mixed with dust and grime from the floor.

"Alright. But first let's make sure the lesson sticks. How about it Richie?" 

Some watching cringed when the broken man was flipped onto his back, shirt torn open as Jack straddling his writhing body. The sound of his screams reverberating around the enclosed dome. 

"Hold still. You'll ruin the letters." He grumbled. Pausing, he let out a demented chuckle. "Right, you can't hear me. Oh well."

Even though Richie didn't hear a thing, he surely felt the cage of burning ice pressing him to the waxed planks. Digging into his chest . And saw the skin slicing open in deliberate patterns.

That little bitch just standing there! Watching this phantom carve him up like a turkey.

After a few moments, the room blurred and Richie clocked out.

"Feh, that was fast." Jack stood up extending his hand to the young girl behind jom. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay."

Cupcake took the offered hand. Even giggling when hoisted into his arms. Without a thought for the butchered human being at her feet, HANDS TO YOURSELF etched in his skin.

A bubble bath sounded nice.

The vision ended, Father Time looking dourly down his nose at the criminal before him. 

"You, Jack Frost, have you anything to say?"

"Yeah. Why am I here again?" The normally jovial sprite looked around bored as hell. Then held up his restraints. "And who do I have to thank for the new fashion accessories?"

Immediate cries of outrage.

"I shall speak for the court. You loathsome bastard! You have the gall to show such uncaring after you willfully maimed a mortal, who lies now at death's door?! That human is just the latest in your centuries long spree of brutality and decimation." Shouted a shrill voice. Aphrodite, mother of Cupid, despised Jack as passionately as her son. "Not to mention your depraved obsession with innocent mortal children. Had the evidence reel continued, I'm sure we'd have been forced to watch you use her for your gratification. Can't seduce a real woman?"

Her dress billowed in some unseen breeze, hips swaying while she took her place. If you can call a skimpy toga that didn't keep her boobs from spilling over held together by gold bangles a dress. 

Still dressing like a tramp. Well, that's ironic isn't it?

"So says a whore who blinds men, women and occasionally children with lust that ruins their lives. How many murders and other atrocities have you had a hand in nympho?" He rolled his eyes. 

"How dare you. I am a goddess of love!"

"And I'm a force of nature. What's your point?"

The Hall of Spirits or Light Court. Oh how he hated this place. Full of hypocritical assholes who believed he belonged to the less desirable Shadow Realms. The classification for all those that did not fit their notion of worthy, like Pitch and every wicked thing he'd ever been mistaken for. Despite being popluated by a large number of beings once worshipped by thousands as gods and heroes of mythology. You know, the ancient equivalent of soap operas, trashy reality shows and bad romance novels.

The many of the calender or 'modern' sprites rarely had anything to do with this group. Particularly the Guardians. Mostly because their mission dealt with children, not the world at large. The Hall giving high ranking to quite a few douchebags didn't help.

Since contact between the groups was super rare, North really couldn't tell him if it had gone  downhill during MiM's silence (since no one knew if they answered to his authority to begin with) or had always been run by засранцы*. Jack assumed the latter given how old most members were.

"You are a merely a bloodthirsty elemental who has over stepped his bounds yet again. The human you nearly killed most recently-" Father Time began.

"Is an abusive excuse for a father/husband who's lucky Cupcake is as sweet as her name. Trust me if I wanted him dead, their be no uncertainty in the matter." Jack snarled, then scowled. "Who the hell told you I'm just an elemental?!"

"My son. Oh, tales of your cruelty are epic Jack Frost." There was the harpy again.

"Yes, epic falsehoods. You're set to try him without council, for shame."

Mother Nature's regal stance did nothing for the angered love goddess's attitude. She looked even more ready to blow.

"You fail to keep this wretch in line then have the nerve to show yourself at his judgement Seraphina? Run along little girl."

Cue crickets.

Yes, part of the Light Court lost much of their power with Seraphina and Lunanoff's arrival on Earth and dislike for the pair amounted to fury. An alien beings had usurped their roles. Not only that, both got far more recognition than any of them did even in their heyday.

That being said, several seats suddenly became vacant in the stands surrounding the floor. Satyrs, devas...Ancient American and African deities and embodiments, all more concerned with the workings of the natural world, seemed to evaporate. Well, some did. It's called teleportation. Though some where silently crawling towards an exit. Leaving their colleagues to blink dumbly.

See they were all very aware of a simple rule:

It's not nice (or remotely intelligent) to piss off Mother Nature.

They had persecuted her youngest child for being what he is then insulted her to her face.

Seeing the corner of one golden eye twitch scared the hell out of them.

"Um...mom? Wait! I'm still standing here!" The shepherd of winter began flailing as he recognized he was positioned directly between an advancing Mother Nature and Queen of the Sluts. His bonds iced over in his panic, shattering like glass when he tugged fiercely. 

"How could you escape runic magic?" Father Time demanded.

"If Mother Nature is my mom and the Man in the Moon is my father, what are the odds I'm a simple frost fae? I AM Winter. And you  losers are screwed. I am so gone!"

Not caring to look back, Jack took to the skies. Passing through the barrier back into the mortal realm with ease.

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *засранцы: shitheads, assholes, dipshits
> 
> There you have it. I rather like the idea of all beliefs and religions past and present being somewhat real. Gives me a wider pool of possible ideas. This takes place when the kids are 13 & 6, sometime time after Jack is comfortable marking Sophie.
> 
> A new eye color to match Jack's mode:
> 
> Blue: Normal
> 
> White: St. Jackson
> 
> Purple: Psychotic?
> 
> And as I'm sure you've noticed I completely lack the ability to correctly use the terms 'slightly' or 'wee bit'.
> 
> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


	17. Part 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's a shock to you this chapter is kinda dark, then it puzzles me you're still reading this fic. Here our favorite investigator again, timeframe explain in chapter.

 

*wda*

 

"So, you intend to do what about it?" 

 

Detective Radcliff sat on a very soft leather sofa looking at the RN across from him in disbelief with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. Opening his mouth, she held up a hand for him to shush as the kitchen timer buzzed.

 

"Excuse me. You can look but no touching."

 

And then she was gone.

 

 

 

Um...

 

 

 

Lisettte "Lisa" Whitmore had leveled  Detective Radcliff with a stare that translated her words to 'Go away, you're wasting my time and yours'. Rather odd response to being told the horrific deaths of your beloved sons may have been murder. Nevermind the severe lack of evidence (rational or otherwise) to support such a statement. 

 

She didn't know that.

 

Only one month ago, Claude and Caleb Whitmore had been killed by a man too high on pain killers to drive right after Winter Break. Christmas day, Pippa Jaeger was found in bed with a bullet in her skull. Monty Felder died when his car rolled down a cliff side the week after the previous Thanksgiving.

 

Four out of a close knit group of seven dead in one season. All of which happened to have developed some condition that locked the teens in the bodies of children. That was the extent of the cirumstances making any real sense. Arguably it could be counted all of them mentioned a mysterious Jack before their demise.

 

A 'Jack Frost' Jacob Felder claims to have met three times. Once hearing him comfort Monty as he died, next seeing him at his brother's funeral and then again in a field with the Jaeger girl days before she died. Something Sam wanted desperately to dismiss as a manifestation of stress and grief in a possible mental patient.

 

Witnessing four ghosts lead a black parade to god knows where made him a hypocrite to call the guy that. The bus from Old Forge hadn't passed a safety inspection but someone okayed it for inter-city travel. Faulty exhaust system with full blast heat plus shut windows equalled twenty nine 6th graders, their teacher and the driver sucking on carbon monoxide from the moment they left Burgess until they lost consciousness four miles outside the city limits. The bus continued rolling until a curve steered it into a densely wooded area where it plowed into a sturdy oak. The same bend Sam ended up on. Engine still running when the tow trucks arrived. Aside from the large dent in the grill, it's passengers looking for all the world as if they'd just fallen asleep.

 

 

 

The Whitmore home seemed like a greenhouse. Potted plants sitting of hanging all over. Odd for two people who worked insane hours. The room could have been of fire and short of seeing flames or feeling the heat, Sam would have no idea. The over powering smell of such fragrant flowers would drown out the smoke. Listening to the lady of the house move dishes and pans in the kitchen, he decided to take her up on the invite to peruse. Half a minute later, he did a double take. 

 

An alcove with several potted shrubs drew his gaze. Hues of white, pink, and yellow nestled on the branchs of separate plants . Upon first glance, two pots of golden flowers seemed the same.  Medium sized oval leaves, small yellow flowers, star shaped petals. But one bush had thinner, spindly ones. The other more rounded petals. 

 

Two pots only held soil. Now that he really looked, these flowers graced the gravestones of the deceased kids. Tied to the base of each plant...

 

No freaking way. 

 

A tear shaped, clear stone.

 

Like the one peaking out of Felder's shirt in the tech club photo.

 

...or resting on Jaeger's chest Christmas day.

 

...or clutched in the twins' hands at the scene.

 

...or dangling from the necks of the remaining two, the Bennett siblings.

 

Truth be told, this wasn't a spur of the moment visit. Another of the now infamous Burgess Seven had died earlier in the week.

 

 

 

Cupcake Josephine Demarco went to school as usual last Monday. She sat down in her chemistry class, struggling to pay attention. Resting her head on her desk, she closed her eyes. A few students began complaining about the heater fritzing out before a sudden gust of cold, snowy wind blew the shutter style windows open. Several kids scrambled towards the door in shock and fright.

 

Cupcake remained seated. Oblivious to the chaos.

 

"Good grief." Mr. Trent huffed, relatching the swinging panes. "Not even a sign from the great Jack Frost could get your attention while in this lab , hmm Miss Demarco?"

 

Hysterical laughter. Everyone knew she still believed in things like that at almost 17. Still, it was cruel for a teacher to say. When she didn't respond, the uproar dwindled to a few strained, nervous chuckles.

 

"Miss Demarco?" Reaching for her shoulder, the teacher drew his hand away with a sharp cry of agony. His fingertips were an angry red. Painful jolts shooting up hid arm.

 

Emergency response arrived to find the entire class in the hall way as far from the room as possible. The school nurse hunched over a terrified chemistry instructor who refused to let her touch his swollen, split and bleeding hand. All signs of severe frostbite

 

And little Cupcake still at her desk. Rosy lips now tinged blue. Her core temperature almost at freezing.  

 

Funny how years ago, she had been the largest child in Burgess Primary. An angry tomboy who lashed out at others and had a not so secret love of unicorns. Everyone had assumed the it to be a defense mechanism for the bullying she received; victim becomes abuser logically. 

 

An avid swimmer she prefered to do so alone at the YMCA. Working up the nerve, she almost tried out for swim team one year but never made it to the pool. Some weird defect had allowed the pipes in the locker room to freeze and burst the day of. Must have frightened her. 

 

After that, she began wearing layers to cover every inch of skin. Not that her previous wardrobe was revealing or anything. The new one consisted solely of black and various shades of red or pink with cutesy versions of skulls and such. Still lacking any curves, she  seemed to grow into her own body by middle school; looking a little less like Hulk Jr. and a little more like a prepubescent Jennifer Walters*. Not cute, nor ugly. Just...average. Plain. 

 

In a gothic lolita kind of way.

 

No one knew why she became so shy and withdrawn until she died. Autopsy was still being processed but preliminary findings were in. Cause of death leaning towards "cardiac event of unknown origin". However, the horrible scars that were discovered littering her frame were a little less of a mystery. Everything from cuts with surgical precision to jagged tears to rather large burns, mainly on her upper body. Welts from something strong and hard yet flexible were all over her legs and thighs. All were rather old. Like they probably didn't receive proper treatment at the time. Healed over but disfiguring at least 3 years prior. 

 

About that time, psycho broke into the Demarco home reducing Lawyer Richie Demarco to a broken mess. Several surgeries were needed to repair his shattered left eye socket, punctured lungs multiple stab wounds and he nearly every bone in his body. Alternating between a cane and wheelchair, Demarco and Associates was still running strong. 

 

The man claimed to have been disoriented from the initial blow and seen nothing useful other than it being a man. Circumstances suggested it may have been a disgruntled former client. Now a whole other can of worms opened. All three Demarcos were home. The Mrs . passed out drunk at the kitchen table but Cupcake, the daughter he never spoke of, was found sound asleep in her bed.

 

Did she not hear her father being tortured? Why had the perpetrator ignored the two females? Why was there so much water all over the living room? Nothing had overflowed.

 

This new development did shed light on the three words carved in his chest though. If his hunch was right, the bastard got what he deserved. The department would be investigating him for child abuse soon.

 

"Don't touch that." Sounded from the kitchen. Oh yeah, that's a mom. Eyes around corners. The oven closed then she reappeared in the doorway. "Honestly..."

 

"I, uh, apologize Ma'am." Roving hand snatched back. "I'm not sure you heard me correctly before. I said-"

 

"Sir, I know what you just said. Nothing's wrong with my hearing." She rolled her eyes. "I've read the reports. It's been concluded my sons are dead because some burnt out  pill pusher from out of town decided to score at the same drugstore they go to everyday. You aren't here because your superiors think there's more to it. You're here because YOU KNOW there is." 

 

Huh?

 

"Do you pride yourself on being a man of reason and logic?" She offered him a glass of juice.

 

"Like to think I do."

 

"Then just drop it." She sighed. "Unless you want to loose your job."

 

"You see, things like that only make people suspicious lady." Radcliff frowned, eying the orange juice warily.

 

"Yes well, only the families are meant to know. I suppose he felt he owed us an explanation for why he would take them away." Lisette continued speaking, not caring that those words made the man reacess his opinion of her. "Anita and I are the only ones who truly understand. Or even want to. She isn't long for this world so I tend this little garden."

 

"Mrs. Whitmore, who took them?" Not willing to chance it, he set the glass on a nearby table.

 

"Jack Frost has reaped nearly all his winter flowers. Only two remained to be harvested. You have no warrant or probable cause to question me. It's only out of concern for your mental health I've said anything to you at all. Since you're so keen on ignoring my warnings and refusing my hospitality, show yourself out."

 

Radcliff stood alone for a moment after she returned to cooking. Defeated, he left. Careful not to disturb anything on his way out.

 

Two rooms over the sound of chopping masked quiet sobs. That of Lisette pretending her tears were caused by the raw onions on the cutting board.

 

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *She Hulk, a watered down (but mentally more stable) version of her unstoppable cousin. According to my more Marvel savvy friend, her transformation is more of a gorgeous green Amazon; a reflection of her desire to look the way the 'ideal' woman does. However, she herself is rather ordinary looking and easy to over look.
> 
>  
> 
> Never had I wanted to smack Stan Lee so damn hard. 
> 
>  
> 
> But as I  wrote this, that conversation came back to me in a roundabout way. Uncomfortable with her body, I think Cupcake doesn't want to be the prettiest just acceptable enough to be a girl in her father's eyes but still 'normal' enough to be ignored by her peers. A common adolescent issue.
> 
>  
> 
> For all her hostility, Lisette is still just a grieving mother.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, another hidden name. This time a character from a 2007 movie. Yes, they were an ass.
> 
>  FYI: All the flowers for the Burgess kids are flowering shrubs or bushes. Most, not sure about all do well indoors.
> 
> So, whatcha think? Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	18. Part 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is, the reconciliation. At least the start of it. Though the chapters are out of order, I have hidden hints and clues in them. Left certain things open in order to revisit them later. For example:
> 
>  
> 
> The seasons and their mother torment the Guardians for rejecting Jack. It is stated that they will stop once they come to thier senses.  We see a bit later that after around three years, this hasn't happened. But five  years later Pippa's diary requests the headstone made by her big brother's coworker be used for her grave. This implies the Guardians finally get their heads out of their asses and North made their headstones. Well, three did. Sandy figured out they had been wrong when the first apology attempt resulted in Jack once again being cast out. Bunny going off about something else  'twisted' about the winter sprite tanked that.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is about how they came back together. The kids are 7 and 13-14. Other than to give more of a reason for Cupid's disdain of the winter shepherd and show off some Mama Nature and Jack badassery, this be the reason I introduced the Hall of Spirits or Light Court.
> 
>  
> 
> Yosh!

 

*wda*

 

Never had the Guardians of Childhood felt like such...idiots. It's one thing to be reprimanded by Manny, Mother Nature and her three, no FOUR seasons for their attitude.

 

 

 

To be summoned then yelled at in this manner was a whole other animal entirely. 

 

 

 

North found a bit of vodka helped with his task of ciphering letters from children. As counterintuitive as that sounded. He was in the middle of letters from Japan when his summons arrived, casually sipping a small glass of it.  Literally buried up to his waist as he read, noticing the newest fad in the Land of the Rising Sun was a baffling thing called a capsule toy. Basically small, perfectly scaled down models of everything from animals to buildings to plants to people that could fit in a vending machine capsule. They could be posed or came in poses that allow them to dangle off of cup lips, laptop screens, button holes etc. It saddened the Cossack that he could only in good conscience give such a choking hazard to the children less likely to put them in their mouths.

 

So, he didn't notice the figure sliding through the door to his office. He did however, notice the strong odor of tobacco smoke. As well as the pungent smell of rum. And peppers?

 

"Iffin I was a snake, ida bit cha!"

 

" ёбанный в рот!" North exclaimed, hopping to his feet in alarm. Behind him stood a man. At first glance dressed to the nines in a black top hat, tails and sporting a cane, he looked to be an his way to a soiree. Until you looked closer.

 

The top half of his face looked alarmingly like a skull. The rest of his face and exposed skin a coal black. Tinted dark glasses with gold frames and the right lens missing over his eyes. What the toymaker thought to be a white shirt under his evening coat he now realized were pearl white bones- a sternum and ribs. The handle of his cane sported what he hoped was not a real shrunken skull. Lazily, the man removed the cigar from his mouth to carelessly flick ash about.

 

"Who are you? What your business here?"

 

"Got manya name ya old drunk bastard. Today it be Lord Samedi. Ain't here fa talkin. Ya worthless ass be wanted in Burgess Town." 

 

"What?"

 

It quickly became clear no answer would be forthcoming. The two stood in silence for a little while til Lord Samedi tossed the still smoking stub of cigar onto the floor, frowning. Seeing the intruder drop the spent butt distracted Nickolas; and the cane came crashing down on his head without warning. "Whatcha still standin round like a damn jackass fah?!" With an urgent banging of his cane on the floor, the man dissolved into grey smoke.

 

"Most strange. Must warn others!" His first thought had been the rude spirit might be an ally of Pitch. Perhaps seeking them all out. Nursing a throbbing headache, he made his way to the globe room.

 

*wda*

 

Clear across the globe, Bunny had just begun the task of replanting his egg bearing plants. The Warren didn't experience any season other than Spring but eggplants only yeilded one harvest before needing a year's dormancy. So, he had to dig up the resting greenry and replace each with a refreshed veteran or brand new sapling. 

 

Gardening can be back breaking work, despite what some may think. It requires strength, stamina, patience and attention to detail. One of which kinda requires eyesight.

 

 

 

Too bad.

 

 

 

"Bloody hell!" The pooka screamed. 

 

One minute, he was looking closely at the roots of a veteran stalk. It seemed to be a good candidate until he noticed the blanching creeping up the base. About to toss it into the compost pile, his vision was consumed by a blinding, searing light. Dirty paws flew up to shield his eyes.

 

A musical laugh echoed from everywhere. Young and female by the sound.

 

"Oy! Tone down the wattage Sheila!" 

 

"Oh, I see why I was asked to visit you. My form is bright as the sun. Quite traumatic to the eyes of the living, even more to a creature so used to low light most of the year. Clever prank. My name is Barnumbirr, not Sheila." The voice had a hard edge with the last bit. "You are to come to the town of Burgess immediately."

 

About to make a snappy retort, his brain seized up. That's the what the humans topside called the planet Venus, their goddess said to guide the dead to the afterlife. She'd long ago joined the Light Court, so what did she want with him? Jack was in Burgess...did he send her to pester him? And here comes the aforementioned snappy retort.

 

"Since when do great and powerful Aboriginal spirits act like couriers?!" He grumbled, turning away. This would have been a mistake, if he could see that is. A sharp whistling alerted him to danger a little late to block the object that struck his exposed backside like a whip. "Yeeouch!"

 

"Depart within the hour or I shall return Aster." 

 

Silence was the only clue to her departure. His eyes were still useless and all he could see was black accompanied by random starburst of light. So of course North's signal went unnoticed over the opening to the surface.

 

*wda*

 

Tooth was ready to pass out. Nothing new. Children lost teeth every hour somewhere on Earth. Her little daughters tried to help their harried mother as best they could but without being able to leave the palace, not much could be done. Catching a small break, she collapsed boneless on her cushioned throne. Her eyes slowly drifting shut.

 

"Ah, I have come at just the right time."

 

Startled, she hopped to attention only to topple over from the sudden momentum. Nose smaking into the marble tile, body sprawled in an ungraceful position. She flushed red when she realized who her visitor was. 

 

Jizo.

 

Yeah, she was facedown, ass up and bleeding before a Bodhisattva, a Buddhist holy spirit. Specifically one who watched over the dearly departed. In a last ditch effort to preserve some dignity, she scrambled to her knees just as a few of her girls draped a cloth across her face.

 

"Oh, what brings you to my home  your greatness?" She stammered. It had been so long since she'd seen this guest. Even then it had been in the world outside.

 

"Disappointment, among other things your highness." The monk sighed. Kneeling down from his lotus perch, he extended his shakujo staff to her for balance as she stood. "I have been asked to tell you to come to Burgess, in America."

 

"Oh! Jack wishes to see me? I thought he was still upset! It's been-"

 

"Toothania-"

 

"-since we all overreacted but I've wanted to apologize so badly. My work load barely allows me to rest for a second so I haven't-"

 

"My lady-"

 

"-why would he bother you? Is India really too hot for him to come in person? But then how did he meet you to tell you to tell me-"

 

Unable to get a word in edge wise, Jizo was tempted to roll his eyes. Instead he, raised his staff and the rings atop it began to chime louder and louder until it felt like the hanging palace would shake apart. Tooth and minifairies alike covered their ears.

 

"Now, you must leave soon." The monk smiled before vanishing in a flash of light.

 

"..." she paused, seeing the Northern lights through a main window. "Sorry North, this is more important. Baby Tooth, you're in charge."

 

The tiny fairy squeaked in acceptance and flew off to hold down the fort as the queen departed.

 

*wda*

 

Sandy was enjoying a relaxing moment floating across the skies over the South Pacific in a sand canoe. The children of the Americas were sound asleep. And he had about an hour before his work in Micronesia and Eastern Asia began.

 

A pod of the dolphins chittering below got his attention. To his suprise, the creatures were a golden hue, leaping out of the calm waters to impossible heights. One bound straight over his canoe, dropping something into the sand boat with a soft 'chink'.

 

/A bottle?/ The little man uncorked the container and out came a lovely image made of icy sparkles. It was the clock tower in Downtown Burgess. /Odd, but alright./

 

He wavered to the dolphins gasping as they dissolved into gold mist. Course determined, the canoe became a biplane that rocketed eastward.

 

*wda*

 

North waited a good hour before giving up and leaving by snowglobe. The return of grey smoke and accompanying cigar smell had nothing to do with his hasty departure.

 

 

 

Nope, not one bit.

 

 

 

Lie.

 

 

 

"For once it ain't freezing when I get here." Bunny streched. The late August air felt wonderful on his fur; warm, even though it was long past sundown. The weak heat of an Indian summer, in preparation for the seasonal change.

 

"Yes, places world over very lovely in Summer. Don't get to see many especially at night. You seen Jack?"

 

"Nah mate. Just got me eyesight back a jiffy ago."

 

"What happened?"

 

"The Morning Star showed up in me Warren blazin like a bloody nova. Told me to come here. Then whacked me on the bum."

 

"Hmph. Strange spirit look like skeletal man hit me with cane. Foul language was all that he spoke in telling me to come."

 

"Am I late?"Tooth fluttered down to join the. Her voice somewhat nasal.

 

"Goodness Toothania! What happened?!" North exclaimed. Her nose was swollen and turning purple. If the cloth she held was any indication, it had only recently stopped bleeding. 

 

"I got a visit from Jizo with instructions to meet Jack here."

 

"And the drongo beat you up?!"

 

"Heavens no! I, well, sort of klutzed out and did this to myself. So embarrassing...can't believe I did that." she muttered. "Look, Sandy!"

 

The golden plane dispersed and the Sandman landed beside them. A snowflake materialized over his head.

 

"No, we just go here but Jack isn't around yet. Who came to you?" Bunny sighed.

 

The little man smiled, the snowflakes morphing into three dolphins then a bottle with wisps of sand leaking from the top.

 

"Wait, Jack sent three spirits that insulted and brained North, blinded and whipped me then caused Tooth to have a painful and embarrassing spaz attack and you got a damned message in a bottle?! That's balanced." Aster ranted.

 

"Jack didn't send anyone."

 

The big four turned to see seven children standing behind them. Well, child spirits. All with haunting blue eyes, deathly pale skin and snow white hair gleaming in the moonlight.

 

Squinting, Aster thought his eyes were still wonky.

 

"Soph?"

 

"Bunny mean!" The smallest girl frowned.

 

"Oh dear...they all look like Jack!" Tooth exclaimed, clasping her hands over he mouth. Accidentally brushing her nose. "Ow..."

 

"We called you cuz you're acting like the Guardians of Jerkhood." Jamie spoke up.

 

"You made our big brother so sad and you don't even care. Not even after Mama got mad at you." Cupcake added. "Except Sandy, now he's being punished for the you guys are still sucking hard."

 

Ouch. Harsh.

 

But as expected, three ignored a big part of those statements to focus on the 'we called you' part. How could they? Those spirits are part of the adult magical world. Right?

 

"How did you all manage that?" North questioned aloud.

 

"Like attracts like." Monty shrugged.

 

"That makes no sense little one."

 

Sandy raised a brow at the bearded man and made an arrow pointing vaguely to his left. /Yeah, I'm going to be over here.../ Then he drifted closer to the frozen lake. The others had no time react to his movement before...

 

"Charge!" Jamie hollered. Followed by six other war cries.

 

The man of sand had moved just in time to avoid a barrage of pretty solid snow balls. Most certainly NOT filled with the essence of fun and merriment.

 

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ёбанный в рот loosely translates to "holy shit!" Or "fucking hell!"
> 
>  
> 
>  Once again, Sandy is a BAMF. The Burgess Seven are pretty bad ass themselves, sending the messengers they did. Here's an explanation:
> 
>  
> 
> Baron Sabedi/Saturday: The main lwa (pronounced loa) of death in voodoo. Though many religions depict his counterparts as grim and solemn, the Baron is a rude, lewd, chain smoking, spiced rum swilling joker. Ya know, the kind of guy you wanna party-hardy with. His arrival means celebration but he has no tolerance for the thick-headed.
> 
>  
> 
> Barnumbirr: The Aboriginal goddess of death symbolized by Venus, the Morning/Evening Star. Couldn't find any description of what she looks like so I took liberties. She whacked Bunny with her Baralku Rope; her tether to the island of the dead bearing the same name.
> 
>  
> 
> Jizo: a Buddhist holy spirit that watches over the dead as they journey to Nirvana or back into the Karmic Wheel of Life. Particularly children and miscarried/aborted fetuses. As a Bhuddist monk, he has taken a vow to never harm a living creature. The rings on his staff are meant to make noise warning insects and small animals of his approach so he doesn't step on them as he walks. What Tooth did to herself he had no control over. Heh...heh...
> 
>  
> 
> Dolphins feature in many faiths where the spirit world lies across a body of water. They are peaceful, helpful guides on the journey. Darn cute too.
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, there is another obscure movie reference in this part. Last time it was Cupcake's chem teacher plus her own last name. It equals Trent Demarco, the stereotypical jock jerk from Transformers (2007). This one isn't a character but a greatly altered quote from a horror movie ten years prior. That so totally fits the situation.
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out!


	19. Part 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More bashing with a point ahoy. Enjoy the ride.

 

*wda*

 

Nickolas St North. Hearty Russian master swordsman and once famed Bandit King. The bold Guardian of Wonder.

 

E. Aster Bunnymund. Martial arts dynamo. Last of the brave pooka warriors who fights with fists and boomerangs. The fierce Guardian of Hope.

 

Warrior Queen Toothania. Old as the mountains and leader of the great fairy army; her weapon of choice two scimitar expertly weilded. The dazzling Guardian of Memories.

 

Sanderson Mansoozie. Sand whip extraordinaire and living example of big things come in small packages. The awe inspiring Guardian of Dreams.

 

Together, they are the mighty Guardians of Childhood. Defenders of belief, sworn to protect the innocence of children the world over. Evil doers beware!

 

Sound like a kick ass movie  huh? Hell yeah you'd see that blockbuster, right?

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Now imagine three of said Guardians running like scared little bitches from one small child and six very small preteens. The fourth floating nearby, lazily rocking and holding his feet. Idly wondering if he should have stopped for popcorn first.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Yeah...lost a whole lotta action hero appeal, real fast, didn't it? Sounds a little less like 'The Avengers' and a lot more like 'Epic Movie' now.

 

Now, take into account that these kids looked very similar to Jack Frost, with a reasonable facsimile of his powers at there disposal. All the Guardians really had to their advantage was their winter magic was no where near the Guardian of Fun's level and the kids couldn't fly either. 

 

Or course Jack was a SEASON so that first advantage meant very little. The second would mean way more if Tooth's wings hadn't been immediately iced over in the first volley and her fellow sitting ducks weren't earthbound. All this, coupled with having no desire to hurt the little ones by defending themselves nixxed any chance of winning this fight.

 

So, the scene Jack happened upon and hour later had him laughing his ass off. Three shivering Guardian/snowman hybrids firmly fixed to trees by cocoons of ice at the end of Summer. Surrounded by his little flowers casually chatting with an unharmed Sandman.

 

 

 

Let's back up a tad.

 

The idea came to Jamie a while after Jack first began preparing them for their future roles as winter sprites and angels of death. Monty had asked how the others were during a lesson and Jack got really quiet. Then plastered on a fake smile and told them they were all fine.

 

They didn't buy it.

 

/We need to get them to apologize./ Pippa sighed, tapping her pencil on the desk in english class.

 

/Yeah but how?/ Two doors down Claude accidentally put a pen in the wall mounted pencil sharpener. /Crap./

 

/Mama did say they weren't gonna get the point of her lesson unless it beat them over the head./* Cupcake laced up her sneakers over opaque pink and black stockings in the gym.

 

/Anybody about to lose a tooth?/ Jamie's math test now had a comic drawing of a dizzy fairy at the bottom.

 

/No. Not too willing to yank one out either./ Caleb mechanically reshelved a few returned library books.

 

/Letters!/ Sophie giggled while coloring an Easter egg sheet handed out by her teacher.

 

/It's April. Christmas is too far awaaaaay-oof!/ Monty's voice trailed off as he tripped on an book in the middle of the computer lab floor. On the way down, he bumped a table.

 

 

 

"OW!"

 

 

 

Seven teachers in two schools were now either scolding their students or somewhat concerned about them grabbing their foreheads. This newest aspect of their bond was almost as annoying as it was helpful. It required splitting their concentration (something Sophie was far better at doing than the others) and also had some pesky sensory feedback. Unless they actively blocked the others out, physical and mental sensations bled through the link.

 

It sucked.

 

Cupcake was just grateful her siblings didn't feel her getting beaten half to death two months ago, way before the new powr emerged. The fact that Jack had to block them all until they got the hang of it was a big help to him not discovering their idea. 

 

After a few more group think sessions, a plan began to form.

 

Unlike their seasonal magic which had to be taught, the power they weilded over death was more intuitive. Good thing. If not, they'd probably be doing all sorts of things that creeped people the hell out. Well, on a more constant basis.

 

 

 

Meh, they're kids with semi-phenomenal, nearly cosmic powers. Cut em some slack.

 

 

 

The twins suggested asking psychopomps to contact the Guardians for them. Older spirits who did the same job as Jack before his creation. Pretty much all of them answered to him as their boss now. A few hold outs answered still only to the Hall of Spirits though. Granted, the Department of Afterlife Management had been utter chaos until four years ago. Most were wise enough to understand death can't take a holiday just because he/she is busy having a hissy fit. They continued to act for worshippers of their respective faiths (unless a soul was reaped by an amnesiactic Jack) until the man in charge was able to lead them.

 

Papa Ghede, Baron Samedi, was first to agree. Didn't even have to be asked. Said he'd be proud to help another jester bring merriment to the necessity that is death. Always wanted to take a jaunt up that way but never had a reason. Something else about children in Haiti being overlooked one Christmas too.

 

Barimbirr decided to help with out hesitation too. She didn't give a reason but it might have something to do with the temple that popped up under her lands eons ago. Underground or not, nobody consulted her before it showed up. It might sound petty but would you be happy about an alien being suddenly taking up residence in (under) your backyard without so much as a how do you do?

 

Jizo took the most convincing. He didn't want to cause any harm but did see the merit of their campaign. The kids knew he felt awful for what happened to Tooth even though it wasn't his fault.

 

The dolphins, egar to be of service, had plucked the magic bottle from Jamie's hands the second he corked it.  On their way skyward in a flash.

 

Satisfied with their work, the seven called out to Jack all at once. Minor bumps and shouts he could ignore. If just one concentrated specifically on reaching him, he got the message instantly.

 

 

 

Which lead to the current situation.

 

"You guys, this is so sweet." Jack smiled at the Burgess Seven before turning to the incapacitated Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus and cracking up all over again. "And so very sad all at the same time. You got your asses handed to you by children? Oh, the irony!"

 

"S'not funny Frostbite! I can't feel me anything!" Bunny's teeth chattered. "Look, I'm sorry for being so quick to judge. It's just...I'm old and kinda jaded about things like this. Had too many bad experiences with stuff I don't rightly understand. Always thought you were just a troublemaker that loved to screw up me holiday. When all this started, I guess I was too ashamed ta admit I was wrong. In me head tried ta make in your fault."

 

"Sounded like that hurt to say." Claude quipped and the rest sniggered at the joke.

 

"Is no excuse for behavior. Should have known Manny had big plans for you. Even beyond that, Guardians of Childhood abandoned and ignored hurting child. Child was spirit but was child all the same." North felt the cold a lot less than his companions thanks to his coat and Russian upbringing. "Wanted to speak upon it but so very busy."

 

"We're so sorry, how we acted is beyond wrong. It won't be easy but repairing our relationship is worth it to us- ACHOO! To us." Tooth sneezed, then sniffled. "Even if tonight hadn't happened, I've been trying to get up the nerve to talk to you again. And f-find the time to."

 

"Hm. I know."

 

"Huh?!"

 

"I've known you guys felt like crap for a while, so did they. But telling us you were too busy to do anything about it is a cop out. Sandy found the time to apologize, even help me teach the kids magic and he's got shit to do most often out of the four of you." Jack frowned. "Mother, my older brothers and sister weren't going to let up on any of you until all of you came to your senses. Still, I guess this is a start. Decided they were taking too long huh?"

 

"Yup!" The kids all cheered.

 

"Ha! Well then, show me whatcha know. Who remembers how to defrost hard ice? And treat hypothermia?"

 

All 7 hands went up in reply.

 

Removed from the tender scene, two figures stood watching from the shadows.

 

"Brave, caring, willing to do anything to protect what they call family. Remind you of anyone?" Mother Nature asked a nearby figure.

 

"Mmm. As a matter of fact my dear, yes." Pitch sneered. All these sweet feelings were going to make him sick any minute. "A man you so desperately seek but is long since dead. Been gone even longer than the age once he protected." 

 

Sinking into an unlit patch of grass, Pitch Black vanished. But not to escape the reunion across the field.

 

Just knowing he might have made his sweet daughter cry over his hateful, biting words was to shameful to bear.

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shout out to my most detailed reviewer, DarkInuFan. Our back and forth is largely responsible for my continuation of this run away plunnie. Love you lots!
> 
>  
> 
> Yeah, family is complicated. Am I right?
> 
>  
> 
> There ya go, we're on the road again.
> 
>  
> 
> I have no idea why I keep doing it but I hid another movie reference. Depending on how old or how much a Disney buff you are, it isn't very well hidden. Last chapter, the rant Bunny goes on is a spoof of the one given in "I Know What You Did Last Summer" about how uneven the threats they all got seemed (body in trunk, near death experience, I forget, and then simple nasty letter). 
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	20. Part 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we approach the grand finale. I am proud to say that this head cannon has not only inspired a sequel of sorts (will answer more questions about this verse) but also given me ideas for a work of my own (one I could get paid for SQUEEE!). I fully intend on continuing to write original and fan fiction.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, this chapter deals with the beginning of end for the Bennett family and a few more clues to the Burgess 7's abilities. A little short but I can't get it to connect properly (in my mind) with the next chapter.

 

 

*wda*

 

Cultures the world over have had many symbols for the mortality of humanity and how no one was above it. The greeks believed the fates spun thread, one for each human life they cut at death. Nordics took it a step further; their Norns wove complicated webs including many intersecting lives.  The sands of the hourglass morphed with times to become the ticking of the clock. Death carries tools of the harvest in many religions. Or is symbolized by the simple divergence of the soul from the road meant for the living down the path to the afterlife.

 

Several years ago, Jamie learned the course of life and subsequent death wasn't exactly straightforward. The number of people who were destined to die at an unmovable point in time is remarkably small. It's why people can decide to do nothing about their health and live far longer than expected. Or why someone who's doctor is so sure they're risk is minimal can expire on the OR table having a such mundane procedure as a tonsillectomy.

 

It scared him when he began to notice his mother's sickness. She showed no physical signs but in a part of her he tried to ignore in most. Her life glow began to fade. Little by little for a week he watch it dim ever so slightly.

 

"Jack! Is she..."

 

He had called out to winter spirit, panicked and shaking. Barely able to maintain the wall he'd hastily thrown up to bar the others from his mind. When he arrived, that sad smile and pale finger pressed to his lips broke Jamie's heart.

 

"..." Jack cupped his cheek, extending the young boy's hand in front of him. "Focus on her kiddo. Her soul, her being. Will it to manifest for you."

 

"It's...too hard." Tearful eyes closed.

 

"Only because you fear what you're gonna see kiddo. You've done it before." 

 

"But those was just some random people!" Not my mother!" He screamed, pushing away.

 

Oh yes, he had done it before. They all had; how could they do their jobs properly without this tool?

 

 

 

The thing about people, or rather representations of their lifeforce, is they are varied. They reflected the person's destiny in an abstract way; greying, crumbling, burning, warping in some way as their life's journey drew near it's end.Leaving clues to the eventual cause of their demise. Some take the form of animals. Others objects with some meaning to the person. Locations, concepts, the choices had no end.  Whatever the case, they could be viewed through reflective surfaces.

 

At first, the children practiced invoking these representations with glass mirrors embued with their magic. With varying degrees of success and difficulty. To their brothers' embarrassment, the girls turned out to be far more adept at this task. While Monty, Jamie, Claude and Caleb struggled to hold an image in a makeup compact for a few minutes, Cupcake and Sophie were able to veiw an entire series of what-if endings for a single person with little effort. Pippa quickly graduated to conjuring her own mirrors of ice just as Monty figured out how to focus on one person.

 

Jamie's first sucess had been a man he spotted in the park. Balding but not yet grey, dressed for a leisurely stroll. He sprint by the brunette as he held up his Galaxy tablet, pretending to play a motion sensitive game.

 

This guy fancied himself a cyclist represented by his Tour de France win in the making taking place on the screen. He looked so happy, so in his element. Merrily peddling his cares away. The scene was so vivid and bright, the guy had to be fit as a fiddle.

 

 

 

So him bursting into flames just as the front of his helmet broke the tape across the finish line was random as fuck. Willing the scene to explain itself, he sees that baldy was indeed one with a fixed death. Set to die when he forgets turn off pot of oil after making french fries. A sad, agonizing and usually preventable way to go but not for this dude.

 

Flesh blistered and cracked rapidly from the intense heat. Next, fat bubbled and melted off the bones until all that remained was a crumbling skeleton still peddling in grotesque parody. The bike only coming to a halt as the wind blew away the last of the ash.The Bennett boy kinda wanted to throw up from the gorey scene.

 

If he focused on his mother, would he see something similar? The thought pained him. The fact that one day he would have to watch her die was irrelevant. That would be a time in the distant future.

 

 

 

Right?

 

 

 

Before he could sink deeper into depression over that thought, strong arms enveloped the fourteen year old. A soft, chilly kiss planted on the back of his neck.

 

"Shhh...It's okay precious. We see that fate of both grown ups and kids but children are our focus.  Death is inevitable for mortals. It is our duty to see that it happens, to guide souls to the next part of their journey. I know you feel bad for those whose passing you know in advance. I'd be a little concerned if you didn't. If you don't want to look at her death, I won't make you. Alright?"

 

"Thanks."

 

"But ignoring it doesn't make the future untrue."

 

"I know." He sniffled, leaning back into the comforting embrace. "I know."

 

It took a month but Jamie finally looked. The image proved just as heart wrenching as he feared it would. He and his little sister cried for hours in a group hug with the others.

 

They'd watched their lively mother slowly waste away as she dutifully slaved away at her desk. Some of her joy came from knowing she provided for their little family pursuing her passion as a writer.  Each keystroke a labor, the background of her office dulling slowly. Her hair turning white and brittle, breaking off or falling out in clumps as she swept it behind her ear. All the while inky tendrils latticed across her skin. Until finally she slumped forward and did not stir.

 

Pancreatic cancer would be her undoing. Made sadder because a brain tumor stole away her husband. Having progressed so fast that her lymph nodes were infected long before she even began to feel unwell; Anita Bennett was a dead woman walking. Nothing could be done.

 

The Bennett children did, however, see the silver lining. Bittersweet as it may be, they took comfort in it. 

 

That after a nearly a decade apart, their mother and father would be together again and for all eternity.

 

*wda*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is nigh. Only a few chapters left...
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs. Sirensoundwave out.


	21. Part 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this story still has creepiness. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I would like to address an issue rampant on both Ffnet and AO3. Here's a review I left on another's work:
> 
>  
> 
> "Don't let a coincidence getcha down. I have noticed a good half of stories on this site are similar to another whether its in the same fandom or not. Here's why:
> 
> A) Some writers are inspired by works they have read by others. Most of the time, the inspired writer acknowledges this fact somewhere in the work. You know, like all fanfiction actually does...
> 
> B) There are literally millions of stories on this damn site. Basic statistics pretty much guarantees a few will be similar by freaking accident.
> 
> C) Some people just suck. Due to half assery, spite, general not giving a frack, trolling, revenge, jealousy (a whole laundry list of terms that pretty much mean they are a terrible human being without a creative bone in their body and not one thing better to do) some people are just assholes.
> 
> Unfortunately, most tend to assume that reason C is always the answer. Especially since some people who might get that review turn out to be "the original" and someone else happened to write a better story with their idea. A younger cousin of mine was devastated when he was accused of writing a "half assed copy of another person's work" despite my cousin's story being published a whole year earlier than the story he 'ripped off'. My cousin deleted his account and hasn't written a thing since. He was already insecure about his writing (he's 14 dammit) and that didn't help matters at all.
> 
> I've read several versions of 'Jack splits into his personalities' and like most of them, yours included. Just like there's quite a few 'Jack's memories', 'Dark Jack', 'death bringer, suicide saint Jack (I have totally written one of these), etc tropes. Some are awesome. Some are meh. Some are freaking awful. But guess where else that happens? Bookstores, libraries, amazon...you know where published works have been paid for? I swear the fantasy section of most places ought to have the following sign: Do you like Dungeons and Dragons, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings or Eragon? No? Kindly move along, here be a hundred attempts to replicate those same books/concepts.
> 
> Just be you and update soon :3
> 
>  
> 
> And for anyone who wants to misconstrue my longer comment to mean that this story is better..when did I say I was a literary critic?"
> 
>  
> 
> Crap like that really bothers me. Do I personally know which category that author falls into? Nope, not a clue.. Because we can never really be sure, we shouldn't just toss out accusations. Or at least be willing to sign in before we post potentially damaging reviews.
> 
>  
> 
> Rant over. Enjoy.

 

 

*wda*

 

"Hey there. Well, I suppose you're really confused-" The white haired teen floated closer to him. "Whoa dude, chill."

"You're the one killing them. You're Jack aren't you?" Radcliff had drawn his sidearm, holding no illusion that this creature was harmless. That young, cheerful face belonged to a killer. One that was literally cold blooded. 

"Okay, definitely confused. Yeah, I'm Jack." A light chuckle. "And just guessing but, you don't understand the situation you're in do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What exactly did you expect to do when you caught up to me?" Jack looked genuinely curious. So, of course after an obligatory beat of silence, he managed to unnerved the adult by flashing his trademark mischievous smirk. "Arrest me? Expose me as a child killer? Exorcise me?"

"..." Radcliff glared, gun still raised. "That last one seems like a winner."

"Translation: you had no plan. You got to be a detective how?" The spirit shook his head, only angering the man enough to fire. Naturally, the bullet passed through him. Earning an eyeroll and a loud laugh. "There's that lack of impulse control again.Your boss doesn't think that's a problem? See, here's the flaw with your logic. One, I am a force of nature. Can't stop winter, can't stop death; both are necessary for the continued existence of life. What prison is going to hold me?"

A casual tap to the muzzle is all it took to ice the gun over. It happened so fast, Sam barely had time to drop it before the cold made it further than his fingernails.

"Second, you make the common (and annoying) mistake of assuming I go about picking children off willy nilly. Everything must be eventually severed from the mortal coil. For most, this means the body, the living shell must die. I have never taken a life before it's time."

"So I'm supposed to just believe the  7 children from the same group you're obsessed with just happened to randomly checkout around the same time. No way frosty. You wanted them, so worked your mojo to keep them small and controllable then killed them so they'd stay that way forever.

I've read about your kind freak. Pedophiles come in all forms, you just get to live out a more twisted version of every pervert's fantasy. Freezing children to death, harvesting their souls and calling it release."

"That joke is really getting old." Jack deadpanned. "Just because I died a teenager doesn't mean I'm horny all the damn time!"

"What other reason is the there for fondling a small girl in skimpy pjs?"

Call it bravery, call it brazen stupidity. Whatever you call it, that was probably the worst thing he could say. Sam didn't get the chance to blink before he was pinned to the tree by icicle spikes. The deadly projectiles pierce his jacket, biting into his skin just deep enough to draw blood. Looking up, the detective was horrified to find dazzling sapphire eyes had darkened to a deep amethyst. That devil may care expression replaced by the kind of smile one would expect from a person of similar age dressed in all white, sporting a black bowler and merrily twirling a cane instead of a shepherd's crook. One that screamed 'I wanna do bad things to you'.

"I repeat, you don't seem to understand your situation, sir."

 

*wda*

 

Sam could say his day started out normal.

If he could tell you what normal was. Fuck if he knew anymore. For nearly the last 3 months, he had been investigating the strange deaths of local children. All of whom had the following in common:

 

1.Some condition that gave them the appearance of small children even though the oldest would have turned 17 had she lived 4 more months.

 

2.Each was known to talk of Jack Frost as a real friend of theirs, one that truly existed.

 

3.Each wore a rather unique, expensive looking necklace that up and vanished somewhere between the scene of death and the medical examiner's office. First responders and fellow investigators all saw the jewelry. An ice cream shop owner had told police she feared someone would try to mug the kids for their convincing costume jewelry. Apparently, someone had no problem skimming them off their corpses.

 

4.Despite the supposed manner of death, all actually died the exact same way...being frozen.

 

Even after all this, the police department had ruled that it was no more than a series of tragic coincidences. Yes, five kids die by being FLASH FROZEN seconds before their dying from car crash injuries, having their brains blown out by their father, being mowed down by a high driver and the only somewhat natural cause.

 

Ms. Demarco looked like she was eleven or twelve. Chronologically, she was sixteen and eight months. Her heart looked like it belonged to someone four times that age. Ironically, both her parents smoked like chimneys but she suffered the most damage. Contact with second and third hand smoke from the day she was born (and likely before) had worn her heart down to the point that had she not mysteriously frozen at that second, cardiac arrest would have killed her immediately. The chief ME couldn't remember a single instance of such a bizarre thing even when she worked in Winnipeg.

None of it raised suspicion.

Not with the weird physical symptoms all five had in the week or so before death. Not with Ms. Jaeger's creepy last diary entry. The twins' odd behavior right before the accident was deemed irrelevant. The unsolved near fatal beating of the town's most notable lawyer seemed to be just a bit of karma as that man and his wife now awaited their own trials. Not even with both the Felder boy's interviews on record did anyone want to press that matter. Though it amazed the detecive the 22 year old hadn't been committed by his parents.

 

Sam doubted another connection would be acknowledged even if he could legally make it. The necklaces that vanished were all on the possession of one Lisette Whitmore, mother of the twins. Kept wrapped around plants that looked exactly like the flowers that appeared on the tombstones of each victim. Tombstones supposedly crafted by a phantom. 

 

Right after the autopsy of the Demarco girl the investigation was abruptly ended. The chief gave him some bullshit excuse about squandering what little resources they had on chasing an imaginary killer. Everyone knew something seriously fucked had happened but nobody tried to find out what.

 

Radcliff thought he was losing his mind. What he saw on that back road haunted him, hearing Jacob Felder confirm Pippa's appearance without the older man telling a soul what happened that night terrified him. Mrs. Whitmore being angry for trying to find out the full story surrounding her children's unfortunate ends disturbed him.

 

WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?!

 

Nursing a cup off lukewarm coffee, Radcliff sat in The Perky Percolator staring blearily out the front window. Late February in Burgess looked just like mid December. Something he's grown used to since moving here in his 4th grade year. The worst year of his life, when he began to hate his parents for plopping them down in Frozen Middle of No-fucking-where, USA.  

 

His folks still lived in town but sister escaped the monotony by becoming a flight attendant. Briefly he found his own way out attending the police academy in Philadelphia then earning a criminal justice degree. Of course due to Murphy's Law, when he signed up for their job placement program, where did he end up?

 

Burgess.

 

And that was 25 long, long years ago.

 

"You okay there?" The waitress asked as she poked him. Pynnie spelled out on her name tag. Maybe her folks were dyslexic...or had a messed up sense of humor...

 

"Yeah. You got any pie?"

 

"Sure do. Apple, cherry, peach, sweet po-"

 

"Er, surprise me, like with the joe. Whatever's most popular."

 

"Comin right up." Sounding far too perky for a food service worker, she skipped away.

 

Even in a small town there were places he had never been. The Perky Percolator sprung up 6 years ago on the site of a very short lived strip joint. He'd only come in today because his home coffee maker had started smoking during his morning routine.

 

No working adult functions properly without a little caffeinated get up and go.

 

So, here he sat at 10:34 on a Saturday morning. Slurping a poor hipster version of coffee with an absurdly long name that made him question if actual coffee grounds were even used. Watching Jamie and Sophie Bennett drag a sled down Main St.

 

Wait...

 

The last of the Burgess 7 were two siblings. Though no link was officially recognized, their were definitely whispers. Looks of pity thrown their way.

 

*Poor dears.*

 

*Do you think Jack will finally be satisfied with them?*

 

*I saw Caleb in the town square last night. He told me it didn't hurt when he died.*

 

*At least when their mother passes, they won't be alone. My cousin said Jack is waiting for her to die first.*

 

*How do you think he'll kill them?*

 

The not so subtle comments followed the two everywhere they went. People treated them with kid gloves. Either feeling sorry for their short lot in life. Or afraid that their sinister guardian angel might harm anyone unkind to his prey.

 

School children attesting that freaky crap happened to kids who bullied the Burgess 7 fueled that notion. So did the tragedies of the Jaeger family, what was going on with the Demarcos and the Cupcake's chemistry teacher who's left hand got amputated after failed attempts to save it.

 

None of that inspired positive thoughts. 

 

Neither did the boy with a mop of snow white hair FLOATING behind them. Laughing with the two as they turned off the road, towards the woods.

 

"Here's...um..." Pynnie arrived pecan pie in hand to an empty seat. All that occupied the booth was a $10 bill under a half empty cup of skinny hazelnut macchiato, extra sugar-free syrup, triple shot, light ice, with extra whip.

 

*wda*

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun...
> 
>  
> 
> Almost there folks.
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, I dislike Starbucks. From the music they play, to the substandard swill they pass off as coffee, to the assholes that seem to frequent and work there. Granted, not everyone who pops into the overpriced coffee chain is a huge dick. Nor is every barista. But the above is a real goddamned order. If your coffee has a more than four step preparation , you should have to mix it yourself. At least when there are 20 people behind you during lunch rush.
> 
> Just saying.
> 
> I keep doing it, don't know why. Last time (chapter 19) contained an Aladdin reference. Specifically Genie's classification of his own powers since he was freed. This time, the allusion is from a violent book that became an only slightly less violent movie.
> 
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.


	22. Part 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. End of the road. Thanks for hanging on there. Hope it's as expected.
> 
>  
> 
> Since this is the last chapter, the movie reference for last time was standard dress for droogs (teenaged bastards that had fun with rape, murder and other assorted acts of 'ultra violence') in A Clockwork Orange.

 

*wda*

 

Dialing as he fumbled with the keys, Radcliff tried to work out where the two were headed. His instincts told him it was nowhere good. Finally succeeding in starting the engine, he prayed it was all in his head.

 

"Burgess General, how may I help you?"

 

"Yeah, this is Detective Samuel Radcliff of the Burgess PD-"

 

"Hello Sam. It's Glenda. The girls on the 4th floor really enjoyed that muffin basket your wife made. So very thoughtful!" Nurse Glenda Drake's impossibly cheery laugh cut him off midsentence.

 

"Er, glad they liked 'em. Listen Glenda, I'm trying to reach Ms. Anita Bennett. She was admitted three days ago."

 

"Oh." The bubbly tone evaporated. A heavy pause played out before she continued. "I'm sorry to tell you Sam, but Mrs. Bennett passed away a hour ago. We're in the process of notifying her family in Pittsburgh and Seattle."

 

 

 

/My cousin said Jack is waiting for her to die first./

 

 

 

There was no way in hell this could have ended well.

 

Hey, that rhymed.

 

Back to topic, Samuel G. Radcliff wrestled with the knowledge that he'd hopped in his jeep to chase down two kids most likely merrily marching to their deaths. Followed by their probable murderer; a phantom right out of a damned creepypasta.

 

Jack Frost wasn't some old man that dropped blizzards on the world in the winter. He was a monster in the form of a young man, so deceptive in his appearance. Hiding the fact that he takes the lives of innocent children. Thinking along fantasy and horror lines, the reasoning could be anything. 

 

Did he feed on them somehow? Sucking the life from them until they can give no more? The kids all stopped aging and were all frozen. Cold is the opposite of heat and heat is associated with energy. Draining them could have...perhaps he was something doomed to survive on the death of youth? Was it transferable from killer to victim? The four of his vics he'd seen, did they kill that busload of people  because they were newly born and hungry?

 

Even more terrifying, Jack simply could be a homicidal demon that enjoyed manipulating his prey to the point that they welcomed their end at his hands. This was all some game he found more amusing with extra playmates.

 

Maybe he couldn't fully "enjoy" them while alive. All that creepy talk about wanting to be with him the Burgess 7 were known for had a not so vaguely sexual undertone. How Jacob shuddered recalling where Jack's hands were on Pippa; recounting how she melted in his arms, how his body seemed to reacted to her isn't something Sam could forget. Not hard to figure out the spirit got off on it.

 

 

 

Wait, how does that work?

 

 

 

He'd managed to lose himself so thoroughly in thought that he almost missed the Bennetts mounting their sled. That particular hill over looked a sparse population of trees.

 

And Lake Burgess, their town's biggest tourist attraction. The scientific anomaly that never thawed no matter the temperature since anybody had been keeping record.

 

 

 

Oh hell. 

 

 

 

The vehicle skidded to a halt. Without thinking, he lept out, leaving it running as he fumbled over the guardrail. His life was turning into a paranormal chiller. Everyone knows how that goes in these flicks. Something that's never failed suddenly does.

 

"Hey! What are you kids doing out here alone?!" He called in his best 'stern adult' voice. Both appeared not to hear him. He  was still a fair distance away from them.

 

"What is your deal?" A soft voice asked to his right.

 

The noise the detective made, contrary to what anyone with ears would attest to, was not a frightened squeal. A manly shout of alarm, yes. Definitely not a shriek befitting a 6 year old girl who just saw the boogeyman in her closet. Followed by a leap two feet straight up and to the left.

 

"Dude! I knew he'd totally scream like a bitch! Called it!" The second voice (cackle) was eerily familiar. And male.

 

"You are too easy to freak out." Identical cackle, slightly different location.

 

"Are you nitwits going to do that to every adult that can see us?" Irritated and female.

 

"You're acting kinda like you know who." Another female sighed.

 

Radcliff really didn't want to turn around. He knew what he would see, but knowing it didn't make it any less distressing. Those five could only be the same ones whose deaths he was investigating. Fighting the  urge to give another, longer, manly shout of alarm, he looked to the side.

 

Standing not far away, were the deceased members of the Burgess 7 in all their unnatural glory. All dressed in combinations of navy blue, white and light brown. All with snow colored hair and eyes like sparkling sapphires. And skin too pale to have blood flowing under it.

 

"Ignore them. I really didn't mean to scare you." Montague stepped a little closer. "I just wanna know why you're so interested in us. In Jack."

 

"I investigate and solve murders."  Oh why the hell not? He's fallen too far down the rabbit hole to climb out now, may as well embrace the madness.

 

"We weren't murdered. Well I sorta was but that's really an open and shut case." Pippa tilted her head to the side. "I thought they closed that really quick."

 

"You all froze to death in impossible, totally not natural ways." He frowned. "Pretty sure Jack had a hand in that."

 

"Well, you're right." Cupcake shrugged. "Jack ended our mortal lives but is wasn't murder. He set us free, we belong with him."

 

"Wow, that's warped." Sam muttered under his breath. He real needed to stop that. "Is that what he told you? Pretty standard predator spiel to lure kids into their clutches."

 

"Hey, what are you accusing our big brother of exactly?" Claude glared. Or was it Caleb? Which one wore the hat?

 

"I think he just called Jack a homicidal child molester." The other wore a matching expression.

 

"Guys, calm down. It's just that he doesn't know what's going on. Magic usually makes less sense to adults." Monty spoke up quickly. "Besides, it's over now anyways."

 

 

 

Over?

 

Shit! They were a distraction!

 

 

 

Radcliff ran full steam through the trees, panicked that the Bennett kids were no longer at the top of the hill. Tracks from the runners leading down and towards the lake greeted him. Out on the frozen surface, all that indicated any one had been there was the lone pink scarf Sophie had been wearing.

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

And that brings us to the present. The tacked to a giant oak by spears of ice present.

 

"Calm down big brother, he's not marked." Cupcake touched the older creature's hand. "Not like my dad was."

 

"Yeah...Mama and Father will be angry." The Demonic Double Mint Twins chorused as one, standing on either side. Each with a hand resting on Jack's back.

 

"His time's not up yet either, they'll be pissed. Not to mention there's already a lot of rumors around town." Pippa frowned. She took the other hand. Monty just sighed and leaned on him as he decended to the ground, eyes closed. The winter terror took a few cleansing breaths before revealing once more blue eyes.

 

"Thanks kiddos. Sorry about that, those little quips of yours brought up less than pleasant memories." That carefree smile returned. Sam brain sorted through the last twenty minutes, deciding this was the most bipolar encounter he'd ever had. Exactly two seconds ago, he'd seen his life flash before his eyes. So very sure this...whatever he is...was going to turn him into an icicle pin cushion. Now it looked like a happy, eager teen surrounded by worried little brothers and sisters.

 

"What the fuc-?!"

 

"Shush. You get to watch something no human ever has. Count yourself lucky." Jack turned to the lake. The smaller ones did the same.

 

The sky seemed to darkened, the moon a tiny pale ghostly circle against the mid morning sky growing brighter in tandem. Bright enough to cast a glow on the frozen surface. Radcliff stood in stunned silence as a web of cracks quickly formed, ice shifting as something rose from beneath. Two somethings. Someones.

 

Slowly, two small bodies rose from the icy depths, looking head to toe exactly like the six on the hill with him. They were a bit far away but the detective was sure their eyes weren't green or brown anymore. If the cheers beside around him were any indication. The dead kids all glided down the slope without touching the ground to greet their newest additions.

 

"I'm not evil ya know."

 

"Uh..." Sam's trance broke.

 

"Mortal adults can be so selfish in their thinking. You see that I'm related to the deaths of children, those who should not die and assume I'm a monster. Here's the sad truth: everyone dies. Age is no exception." Jack watched the seven kids swoop and soar across the field, most likely playing tag. "I told you I've never reaped anyone before their time and I meant it. I am winter and winter is always an end before new beginnings. I guide children to the world beyond when they pass away."

 

"But you killed the seven of them. They just admitted it."

 

"None of them were ever going to see this coming Spring. Monty still would have driven off the cliff. Pippa's dad still would have 'spared' his family shame. A junkie's bad judgement still woulda killed Caleb and Claude. Cupcake had been in failing health for years. All I did was lessen their pain. Promise them a new existence after." With a dismissive wave, Sam found himself free. Immediately face planting in the snow. "I was alone for so long because of poorly thought out good intentions. To make up for it, father gave them to me. Seven unfortunate little angels."

 

"So you own them now. Wonderful after life." Why won't his mouth listen to his brain's pleas to SHUT THE HELL UP?! Death by sarcasm...

 

"They are my siblings who share my magic and duties. Don't expect you to understand but there is finally balance in the seasons. Spring, Summer and Fall were born eons before me but father made me most powerful. Winter brings death and can only be ruled by the dead."

 

 

 

Back up.

 

 

 

Sam hadn't exactly been the most attentive when forced to go to Sunday school but didn't God sort that out?

 

"For those who worship him, yes your god does. The world is made up of layered spheres of influence so complex most humans would have an aneurysm trying to comprehend it all. Ironically, all your religious arguments are moot cuz everyone's more or less right." Jack laughed. It slowly dawned on the human man, causing him to groan.

 

Fuuuuck. He'd verbalized his thoughts without realizing it. Again. He's officially got no sense of self preservation, period.

 

"Not that watching your existential meltdown isn't amusing but we should go. It's a little weird having an adult not like Lisette see us but whatever."

 

"She already knew...what do you mean not like her?"

 

"There's loads of religious leaders but not many are much more spiritually aware than a brick. If you apologize and tell her the lilies won't die either, maybe she'll explain it to you. Then again, voodoo priestesses are notorious for holding grudges." There was that sly grin again. "Especially since the twins weren't happy about you bothering her. Scaring the hell outta you was sort of revenge."

 

 

 

Great.

 

 

 

"Yo kids! Let's go! Big sis isn't gonna blow through the northern hemisphere till the end of March!" Jack called.

 

A cacaphony of cheers erupted from below. By this point, it should have come as no surprise that the Burgess Seven actually lifted off the ground, swooping and gliding as they laughed together.

 

"I almost hate to ask but...big sis?"

 

"Mariposa or as you know her, Spring."

 

"Gah!" For the second time that morning, Radcliff nearly had a heart attack. Upside down behind him, Jamie Bennett or rather his ghost, grinned like a mad man.

 

"You're taking this pretty well." Claude floated closer.

 

"Yeah ya know, 8 dead kids talking to them would send most guys running for a straight jacket." Caleb yawned, scratching his fro.

 

"Are you determined to drive me to that point?" Was the deadpanned response. His hands slid over his face, coming to rest over his eyes. "This isn't happening. I'm at home, in my bed and the alarm hasn't gone off yet." This was followed by more, less coherent babbling. Something about never drinking again and how long acid flashbacks last.

 

 

 

Sam was so done with this shit.

 

 

 

Fuck being right. 

 

 

 

Fuck uncovering the truth. 

 

 

 

Fuck this town and it's creepy obliviousness.

 

 

 

Fuck these damned ghosts.

 

 

 

He just wanted the nightmare to end...

 

 

 

"Congrats. You broke him. Proud of yourselves?" Pippa huffed, crossing her arms.

 

"Yep!" The twins beamed.

 

"I swear you two are proof Mama is Gramps' daughter." Jack said. "Monty, you're up."

 

"Me?!"

 

"You suck are this and practice makes perfect." The elder spirit nodded. "Just...try not to cause too much hypothermia and he'll be fine."

 

"...alright." The shortest boy nodded. Cupping his hands, he gently blew. A whirlwind of blue snowflakes surrounded Sam for a second then vanished. In an instant, the dazed man's body temperature plummeted. So quickly he lost consciousness face down in the snow.

 

"Is he dead?" Sophie toed his head.

 

"No snaggle tooth." Cupcake smiled. "But he will be if we don't get him someplace warm in...3 minutes give or take. At least, that's when brain damage sets in."

 

"Too bad we can't use Bunny's tunnels." Jamie frowned. "Oh well."

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

Lisette sat in her foyer, sipping tea. Today was the day the last two plants bloom. No sooner had she had that thought, the missing crystals materialized around their respective shrubs. One bursting into white blooms, the other light pink.

 

"Hmm. I guess it's over." She sighed. "Oh!"

 

To her suprise, a green stalk sprouted up in each pot, weaving through the branches.Resting a top the new plants, a single large white flower...a lone petal shaped like a pitcher.

 

"You better take good care of them you little frosty freak." She downed the last drop in her mug. Leaning in, she sniffed the fragrant blossoms. A soft smile graced her lips as she flicked one of the new funnel shaped flowers enough to make it wobble. A tiny ripple of energy flowed from her fingertip. "Or I'll hunt you down and exorcise you myself."

 

 

 

*wda*

 

 

 

"Ow! The hell?!" Jack's grabbed the back of his head, dropping Radcliff just short of his mattress. "Whoops."

 

"Sam? You back already?" Came from the master bath. The running water stopped and the sound of a shower curtain opening could be heard through the thin wood.

 

"Uh..." That moan probably had more to do with pain and slowly coming around than his wife's question.

 

"That's my cue. Later dude."

 

The winter spirit probably could have stayed to make sure the man was okay; Mrs. Radcliff couldn't see him. But the thought of seeing the man's wife naked held no interest for him. 

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Lie.

 

 

 

He knew the boys would hoot and catcall through the link, but Cupcake, Pippa and Sophie would bash in his skull for real if he didn't leave before she opened that door. 

 

And what big brother didn't have a reasonable fear of his little sisters? 

 

Besides, Mari only gave him an extended snow season (thanks to Phil's improvising with a lighting rig) in exchange for a favor. Right now, he had a 6 foot tall kangaroo to annoy. 

 

Only two months till Easter...

 

*wda*

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys this fic is waaay more popular than I ever thought it would be. Love you all lots for making that a fact!
> 
>  
> 
> A side fic called Family is Complicated is up. Check it out for reasons to pity and dislike Pitch all at once. The actual sequel In the Garden of Frozen Blooms is up now too. Read both for more about our favorite group of slightly off characters as they experience their lives and afterlives.  
>  
> 
> Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.
> 
> Shameless self promotion: Also check out Once Upon a Time in Everlie, a fic I had stopped momentarily to work on run away plot bunnies. These writings really helped me explore my subplot organization and renew my muse. Let me know whatcha think.

**Author's Note:**

> Soo...should I keep going?


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